entered the carriage next, while Uncle John mounted beside the driver
and directed him to the Crown Palace Hotel.

It was growing dark when they reached the dingy hostelry, which might
have been palatial when it was named but was now sadly faded and
tawdry. It proved to be fairly comfortable, however, and the first
care of the party was to see Myrtle Dean safely established in a cosy
room, with a grate fire to cheer her. Patsy and Beth had adjoining
rooms and kept running in for a word with their protégé, who was
so astonished and confused by her sudden good fortune that she was
incapable of speech and more inclined to cry than to laugh.

During the evening Uncle John was busy at the telegraph booth. He sent
several messages to Leadville, to Anson Jones, to the Chief of Police
and to the various hotels; but long before midnight, when the last
replies were received, he knew that Anson Jones had left Leadville
five months ago, and his present whereabouts were unknown. Having
learned these facts the little man went to bed and slept peacefully
until morning.

Myrtle had begged them to see that she was called at five o'clock,
that she might have ample time to get to the depot for her train, but
no one called her and the poor child was so weary and worn with her
trip that the soft bed enthralled her for many hours after daybreak.

Patsy finally aroused her, opening the blinds to let in the sunshine
and then sitting beside Myrtle's bed to stroke her fair hair and tell
her it was nearly noon.

"But my train!" wailed the girl, greatly distressed.