Arthur M. Winfield

“ But youth is strong and hopeful, and by the time they had entered the cars and made themselves comfortable the scenes around them engrossed their attention, and the past was forgotten for the time being. The train was an express, and flew along at the rate of sixty miles an hour.
"We'll be in Chicago by this time to-morrow," said Dick. "It's quick traveling, isn't it?"
"I hope we are fortunate enough to catch Jack Wumble," said Tom. ”

“ Well, I've seen something of the world myself."
"Are you a Western man?" asked Tom, who thought it would not hurt to do a little questioning on his own account.
"Yes, I was born and brought up in Colorado."
The reply interested Tom.
"But you have traveled, you say?"
"Yes, I've been to San Francisco and to New York, and also up in the mining districts of the Northwest Territory, and in the mines of Mexico. I've been what they call a rolling stone." And the burly man laughed lightly, but the laugh was not a pleasant one.
"Then you ought to know a good deal about mining," Tom ventured. ”

“ He is a crack shot, and besides he knows Larkspur Creek from end to end, and it will save you a lot of hunting around to have him by to give information."
"And where can we find Jack Wumble?
"The last I heard of him he was in Chicago. He is rather a reckless man, and when he has money is apt to spend it in gambling. But his heart is true blue and honest to the core."
"Do you know where he was stopping?"
"At a hotel called the Western Palace. It is a great resort for mining men, and you will be sure to find out all about him if you ask for him there," concluded Mr. Rover. ”