While the children of Captain Grant grew hotter and hotter upon their father’s geographic trail, Lin sat saying to himself a number of contradictions.  “He’s nothing to me; what’s any of them to me?” Driven to bay by his bewilderment, he restated the facts of the past.  “Why, she’d deserted him and Lusk before she’d ever laid eyes on me.  I needn’t to bother myself.  He wasn’t never even my step-kid.”  The past, however, brought no guidance.  “Lord, what’s the thing to do about this?  If I had any home—­ This is a stinkin’ world in some respects,” said Mr. McLean, aloud, unknowingly.  The lady in the chair beneath which the cow-puncher had his legs nudged her husband.  They took it for emotion over the sad fortune of Captain Grant, and their backs shook.  Presently each turned, and saw the singular man with untamed, wide-open eyes glowering at the stage, and both backs shook again.

Once more his hand was laid on Billy.  “Say!” The boy glanced at him, and quickly away.

“Look at me, and listen.”

Billy swervingly obeyed.

“I ain’t after yu’, and never was.  This here’s your business, not mine.  Are yu’ listenin’ good?”

The boy made a nod, and Lin proceeded, whispering:  “You’ve got no call to believe what I say to yu’—­yu’ve been lied to, I guess, pretty often.  So I’ll not stop yu’ runnin’ and hidin’, and I’ll never give it away I saw yu’, but yu’ keep doin’ what yu’ please.  I’ll just go now.  I’ve saw all I want, but you and your friends stay with it till it quits.  If yu’ happen to wish to speak to me about that pistol or bears, yu’ come around to Smith’s Palace—­that’s the boss hotel here, ain’t it?—­and if yu’ don’t come too late I’ll not be gone to bed.  But this time of night I’m liable to get sleepy.  Tell your friends good-bye for me, and be good to yourself.  I’ve appreciated your company.”

Mr. McLean entered Smith’s Palace, and, engaging a room with two beds in it, did a little delicate lying by means of the truth.  “It’s a lost boy—­ a runaway,” he told the clerk.  “He’ll not be extra clean, I expect, if he does come.  Maybe he’ll give me the slip, and I’ll have a job cut out to-morrow.  I’ll thank yu’ to put my money in your safe.”

The clerk placed himself at the disposal of the secret service, and Lin walked up and down, looking at the railroad photographs for some ten minutes, when Master Billy peered in from the street.

“Hello!” said Mr. McLean, casually, and returned to a fine picture of Pike’s Peak.

Billy observed him for a space, and, receiving no further attention, came stepping along.  “I’m not a-going back to Laramie,” he stated, warningly.

“I wouldn’t,” said Lin.  “It ain’t half the town Denver is.  Well, good-night.  Sorry yu’ couldn’t call sooner—­I’m dead sleepy.”

“O-h!” Billy stood blank.  “I wish I’d shook the darned old show.  Say, lemme black your boots in the morning?”

“Not sure my train don’t go too early.”