We return to Denver, where business required Dean and Ben Rawson to remain two or three days. Eben Jones was too impatient to reach home to bear them company, but started at once for Connecticut. Rawson and Dean secured a large room in the leading hotel, which they made their headquarters.

Denver was at that time far from being the handsome city it has since become. Society was mixed, and the visitors who were continually arriving and departing embraced all sorts and conditions of men. There was no small sprinkling of adventurers, both good and bad, and it was necessary for the traveler to be wary and prudent, lest he should fall a prey to those of the latter kind.

The second night our two friends retired late, having passed a busy and as it proved profitable day, for it was on that day Dean effected his purchase of lots already referred to.

"I feel fagged out, Dean," said Rawson, as he prepared for bed. "I have been working harder than I did at the mines."

"I am tired too, but I have passed a pleasant day," said Dean. "I think I would rather live here than at the mines."

"You can have your choice when you return, but for my part I like the mines. I prefer the freedom of the mining camp to the restraints of the city."

"There isn't much restraint that I can see."

"There will be. Five years hence Denver will be a compact city."

"In that case my lots will have risen in value."

"No doubt of it. You have made a good purchase. But what I was going to say is this. I am so dead tired that it would take an earthquake to wake me. Now, as you know, we have considerable money in the room, besides what we have outside. Suppose some thief entered our room in the night!"

"I wake easily," said Dean.

"That is lucky. There's a fellow with a hang-dog look rooms just opposite, whose appearance I don't like. I have caught him spying about and watching us closely. I think he is after our money."

"What is his appearance, Ben?"

"He has red hair and a red beard. There is something in his expression that looks familiar, but I can't place him. I feel sure at any rate that he is a dangerous man."

"I haven't noticed him, Rawson."

"I have got it into my head somehow that he will try to enter our room when we are asleep."

"But the door is locked."

"If the man is a professional, he will be able to get in in spite of that. Now Dean, I want you to take my revolver and put it under your pillow, to use in case it should be necessary. Of course you will wake me also in case of a visit."

"Very well, Ben."

The two undressed and got into bed. There were two beds in the room, the smaller one being occupied by Dean. This was placed over against the window, while Rawson's was closer to the door, on the right.

Dean as well as Rawson, was tired, and soon fell asleep. But for some reason his sleep was troubled. He tossed about, and dreamed bad dreams. It might have been the conversation that had taken place between Rawson and himself, which shaped the dreams that disturbed him.

It seemed to him that a man had entered the room, and was rifling Rawson's pockets. The dream excited him so much that it awakened him, and none too soon, for there, bending over the chair on which Rawson had thrown his clothes, was the very man whom his companion had described. The moonlight that flooded the room revealed him clearly, with his red hair and beard, just as he had presented himself to Dean in his dreams.

Dean rose to a sitting posture, and quietly drew out the revolver from underneath his pillow.

"What are you doing there?" he demanded.

The intruder started, and, turning quickly, fixed his eyes upon Dean. He didn't appear so much alarmed as angry at the interruption.

"Lie down, and keep still, if you know what's good for yourself, kid!" he said, in a menacing tone.

"And let you rob my friend? Not much!" said Dean, boldly. "Lay down those clothes!"

"When I get ready."

"I command you to lay them down!" said Dean, boldly.

"I'll wring your neck if you don't keep quiet," said the robber, quietly.

"Rawson!" cried Dean, raising his voice.

"Confusion!" muttered the thief, as, dropping his booty, he took a step towards Dean's bed.

"Look out for yourself!" said Dean, in a tone of warning. "Come nearer, and I fire!"

Then for the first time the intruder noticed that the boy was armed. He drew back cautiously.

Just then Rawson asked sleepily, "What's the matter, Dean?"

"Wake up, Rawson, quick!" said Dean.

Ben Rawson opened his eyes, and took in the situation at once. He sprang from the bed, and placed himself between the thief and the door.

"Let me go!" exclaimed the intruder, as he made a dash forward, only to be seized by the powerful miner.

"Now let me know who you are, and whether you have taken anything," he said, resolutely. "Dean, let us have some light."

The thief struggled to escape, but in vain. His captor was stronger than himself. Dean lighted the gas, and both scrutinized the thief closely. Then a light flashed upon Dean.

"I know him in spite of his false hair and beard," he said. "It's Peter Kirby."

Rawson pulled off the disguise, and Kirby stood revealed.

"Yes, it's Kirby!" he said, doggedly. "What are you going to do with me?"

"Put you in the hands of the police," answered Rawson, coolly.

Kirby remained silent a moment, and then said: "I'll make it worth your while to let me go."

"How?" asked Rawson, briefly.

"That boy's uncle was robbed near a year since of a thousand dollars. I can tell him the name of the thief."

"Was it Squire Bates?" asked Dean, eagerly.

"Till my safety is assured I can tell nothing."

"Can you enable me to recover the money?"

"I can. I will be willing to make a statement, and swear to it before a magistrate."

"Is not Squire Bates the head of a gang of robbers?"

"I am not prepared to say. I will do what I agreed."

Rawson and Dean conferred together briefly, and decided to release Kirby on the terms proposed. But it was necessary to wait till morning, and they didn't dare to release him. They tied the villain hand and foot, and kept him in this condition till daylight. Then they took him before a magistrate, his statement was written out and sworn to, and they released him.

"I wouldn't have done this," said Kirby, "if Bates had treated me right; but he has been working against me, and I have sworn to get even."

Dean did not trouble himself about Kirby's motives, but he was overjoyed to think that through his means the mystery at Waterford had been solved at last, and his uncle would recover his property.

"Now I shall go home happy," he said to Rawson, "for I shall carry happiness to my good uncle and aunt."