're off!" cried Ned.

"Yes; we're off," admitted Tom, and, to himself he added: "No
telling what will happen before we get there, though."

The trip to Chicago was without incident, and, on arrival in the
Windy City, Tom was on the lookout for Andy or his father, but he
did not see them. He made private inquiries at the hotel mentioned
in Pete's telegram, but learned that the Fogers had gone on.

"Perhaps I'm worrying too much," thought Tom. But an event that
occurred a few nights later, when they were speeding across the
continent showed him that there was need of great precaution.

On leaving Chicago, Tom had noticed, among the other passengers
traveling in the same coach as themselves, a man who seemed to be
closely observing each member of the party of gold-hunters. He was a
man with a black mustache, a mustache so black, in fact, that Tom at
once concluded that it had been dyed. This, in itself, was not much,
but there was a certain air about the man--a "sporty" air--which
made Tom suspicious.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that man was a gambler, Ned," he said to
his chum, one afternoon, as they were speeding along. The man in
question was several seats away from Tom.

"He does look like one," agreed Ned.

"I needn't advise you not to fall in with any of his invitations to
play cards, I suppose," went on Tom, after a pause.

"No, indeed, it's something I don't do," answered Ned, with a laugh.
"But it might be a good thing to speak to Abe Abercrombie about him.
If that man's a sharper perhaps Abe knows him, or has seen him, for
Abe has traveled around in the West considerable."

"We'll ask him," agreed Tom, but the miner, when his attention was
called to the man, said he had never seen him before.

"He does look like a confidence man," agreed Abe, "but as long as he
doesn't approach us we can't do anything, and don't need to worry."

There was little need to call the attention of either Mr. Damon or
Mr. Parker to the man, for Mr. Damon was busy watching the scenery,
as this trip was a new one to him, and he was continually blessing
something he saw or thought of. As for Mr. Parker, he was puzzling
over some new theories he had in mind, and he said little to the
others.

On the night of the same day on which Tom had called special
attention to the man with the black mustache, our hero went to his
berth rather late. He had sent some telegrams to his father and one
to Miss Nestor, and, when he turned in h