The Essential Edward Stratemeyer Collection. Stratemeyer Edward

the senator's son, while a number of tourists gathered around, to learn what was going on.

      "Yes, sah!" returned the colored porter of the car. Plainly he was much distressed. "He had an order, sah," he added, and fumbled in one pocket after another, at last bringing out a crumbled bit of writing paper. "Here it is, sah!"

      Roger took the slip and read it, with Dave and Phil looking over his shoulders. The sheet read as follows:

      _"Porter, Car Medora: Deliver to bearer my suit-case. Roger A. Morr."_

      "This is a forgery--I never wrote it!" cried the senator's son. "It's some swindler's trick!"

      "I--I didn't know you didn't write it," faltered the porter. "I axed the man where you was and he said you was visitin' his house and wanted to show him something you had in the case."

      "Do you know what I think?" exclaimed Dave. "I think this is the work of Link Merwell!"

      "Yes, and Job Haskers," added Phil. "They are working together."

      "But why did they steal my suit-case?" asked Roger. "Do you suppose----?" He stopped short, for strangers were about. He was on the point of mentioning the map and instructions he carried for locating the Landslide Mine. Dave and Phil, as well as Ben and Shadow, understood.

      "Did you have anything in the case outside of your clothing?" whispered the shipowner's son.

      "Only a few things of no importance," answered Roger. He tapped his breast pocket. "Those papers are here, and my money is here, too."

      "Good!" murmured Dave. "Then Merwell and Haskers will be sold--outside of getting your clothing."

      The porter was closely questioned, but could give no very good description of the man who had presented the order for the suit-case.

      "I was busy--waitin' on an old lady wot was sick," he explained. "I jess read that order and got the suit-case, and he went off in a hurry. I'm mighty sorry I let him have the bag. But he had the order, all signed," and the porter rolled his eyes mournfully.

      "I can't say that I blame you," answered Roger. "But after this----"

      "I won't give away nuffin to nobody," cried the porter, quickly.

      The matter was talked over for several minutes, and then it was time for the train to leave Chicago. The paper looked as if it might be in Link Merwell's handwriting and the boys concluded that he was the guilty party. Probably he had come to the train, knowing our friends were away on the sight-seeing tour, and possibly he had been disguised, maybe with a false mustache, or wig, or both. The porter was almost certain the man had worn a heavy black mustache.

      "Well, all I lost was one suit of clothes, some shirts and collars, a few neckties and some underclothes, and a comb and brush, and toothbrush," remarked Roger, when the train was once more on its way. "It's a total loss of about sixty dollars."

      "Maybe you can make the railroad pay it," suggested Shadow.

      "Perhaps. But I am thankful that those rascals didn't get what they were after. They must have thought I carried those papers in the suit-case." Such was indeed the truth, and it was Merwell who had forged Roger's signature and gotten the traveling bag. It may be added here that, later on, the railroad company offered to pay for the loss of the suit-case and its contents, doing this very promptly when it was learned that the loser was the son of a United States senator.

      On and on rolled the excursion train, and after the excitement attending the loss of the suit-case was over, the boys and girls settled down to enjoy themselves. Dave and the other lads loaned Roger such things as he needed, until he could get at his trunk in the baggage-car.

      The next morning found the train in St. Paul, and there the tourists spent a day, riding around the city and visiting Minneapolis, which is but a short distance away. By nightfall they were on board once more and bound for Livingston, a small place, where a branch-line runs a distance of about fifty miles southward to Gardiner, the northern entrance to Yellowstone Park. At Livingston, Dave and his chums were to separate from the others and keep on westward to Butte, where they hoped to fall in with Abe Blower, the old miner and prospector.

      "Oh, Dave, it won't be long now before we separate!" said Jessie with a sigh. It was the second day of the trip after leaving St. Paul, and the two were by themselves on the observation end of the train.

      "Well, I don't think it will be for long," he said, as cheerfully as possible. "We'll soon join you in the Park."

      "I--I wouldn't mind it so much if it was not for that Link Merwell--and that old Haskers!" continued the girl. "Oh, Dave, you must be careful!" and she caught him by the arm.

      "I'm going to keep my eyes open for them," Dave answered, and, as nobody was looking, he caught her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "Will you miss me, Jessie, while I am gone?" he continued, in a low tone.

      "Terribly!" she whispered.

      "I'll miss you, too. But it sha'n't be for long that I'll be away--I promise you that."

      "Oh, you must find the mine if you can, Dave. I rather think the Morrs are depending on it. Laura said Roger looked very much worried when he got that letter in St. Paul."

      "Yes, matters are not going well with the senator's affairs--I know that, Jessie. If he gets out of politics he'll have to do something else. Finding this lost gold mine would be a big lift for the whole family."

      Then Laura came out, in company with Roger, and soon the others followed. It was a perfect day, as clear as could be, and off in the distance could be seen the mountains.

      "Going to shoot any bears out there in the Park?" asked Shadow, of Dunston Porter, with a grin.

      "Hardly, Shadow, since outsiders are not allowed to carry firearms," replied Dave's uncle. "Only the United States soldiers are armed in the Park."

      "Somebody told me the bears were tame enough to eat out of your hand," said Phil.

      "Maybe they are, but I shouldn't advise anybody to feed them that way," answered Mr. Porter. "A bear isn't naturally a sociable creature."

      It had been decided that Dunston Porter should go into the Park with the ladies and the girls, letting the boys shift for themselves in the search for Abe Blower and the lost Landslide Mine. An hour before the time for parting came Dunston Porter called Dave, Roger, and Phil to him, in a car that was practically vacated at the time.

      "Now, I want to caution all of you to be careful," said the old hunter and traveler. "This isn't the East, remember. It's the West, and in some places it is as wild and woolly as can be. But I don't think you'll have any trouble if you mind your own business and keep your eyes open. Don't rely too much on strangers, and I think it will be wise for all of you to keep together as much as possible. Don't show any more cash than you have to. And remember, you can always reach us in the Park, by telegraph or long-distance telephone."

      "We'll try to take care of ourselves," said Dave; and then his uncle continued to give the youths advice, on one subject or another, until it was time to get ready to leave the train.

      "Livingston!" was the cry presently, and the excursion train rolled into the long depot. It was to stop there for fifteen minutes and then proceed to Gardiner.

      "There is Belle!" cried Laura.

      "I see her!" put in Phil, and was the first to reach the platform and shake the girl from Star Ranch by the hand. Belle Endicott looked the picture of health, and was glad to greet them all.

      "Sorry we can't visit awhile," said Roger.

      "We'll do that after we come back," added Phil.

      "Well, good-by everybody!" cried Dave, shaking hands with many, an example followed by those who