The landlord soon told all he knew of the case. Late the previous night, he said, the ragged youth and his companion had arrived at the hotel, bringing the dog in the wagon. They said they had purchased it and were taking it to a man in the country. They paid for the keep of themselves and their horse and remained all night.
"This morning the well-dressed young fellow came along," went on the landlord.
"That was Simon," murmured Dick.
"He registered as Thomas Henderson," said the hotel keeper. "I didn't much like his looks, but I'm here to hire rooms and furnish meals to travelers, not to criticise 'em. I was a leetle s'prised that he seemed to know them other two, but I thought that was his business. He seemed to know the dog, too, but the beast didn't take much of a notion to him. They stayed here all day, and one of my hostlers says the dog tried to break loose several times. They kept him chained in the stable, and they licked him more than once, I guess. They said he was savage and had to be beat to make him mind."
"Poor Grit," murmured Dick, and the dog barked joyfully at being again with his master.
"Wa'al," resumed the hotel man, "Simon, as you call him, an' the other two, they had several talks together. I heard 'em say suthin' about expectin' someone with money."
"That was me," interposed Dick, with a smile.
