ell, I'll not insist on a gold mine," called back Henry, as he started
his horse up, a task that required some time, for the animal seemed to
take advantage of every stop to go to sleep. "I'm not prejudiced in
favor of a gold mine. A good-paying silver mine will do pretty nearly as
well."

"I'll remember, Henry. Good-bye until I get back."

Early the next morning Dick and his four boy friends were on their way
to the West. Their train was an express and the first stop was at a
large city, where several railroads formed a junction. As the boys were
looking from the window of the parlor car, Tim, who managed to take his
eyes away from the gorgeous fittings long enough to notice what was
going on up and down the long station platform, suddenly uttered an
exclamation, and grabbed Dick's arm.

"Look! Dere he is!" he whispered.

"Who?"

"Vanderhoof! Colonel Dendon! Bond Broker Bill!"

"Where? I don't see anyone."

"Dat slick-lookin' man, wid de brown hat on," and Tim pointed to him.

"But he hasn't any black moustache," objected Dick, thinking Tim's
imagination was getting the best of him.

"Of course not. He's cut it off. But I'd know him anywhere by dat scar
on his left cheek. Dat's de swindler all right!"

As Dick looked he saw that the man with the brown hat did have a large
scar on his cheek. It had been hidden by the moustache before.

Then, just as the train pulled out, the man looked toward the parlor
car. His eyes met Dick's, and, an instant later, the man with the scar
was on the run toward the telegraph office.

CHAPTER XXIII

AT THE MINES

"Hold on!" cried Dick, jumping up. "Stop the train!"

The cars were rapidly acquiring speed, and Dick ran toward the door with
the evident intention of getting off.

"Don't jump, Dick!" called Walter Mead. "We're going too fast!"

"Dat's right," chimed in Tim. "It's too late!"

"Yes, I guess it is," assented Dick. "But, Tim, how do you know that was
Vanderhoof? To me he didn't look a bit like him. Besides, how did you
know he had a scar under his moustache?"

"I've seen him wid his whiskers an' moustache off before," replied the
newsboy. "I used to run errands for de sleuths at police headquarters,
an' I seen lots of criminals."

"But are you sure you saw this man there?"

"Cert. He was brought in lots of times fer some kind of crooked game,
but most times he was let go, 'cause they couldn't prove anyt'ing agin
him. Sometimes he'd have a white