“Perhaps the owners will sell cheap.”

“I shall explain the situation and make a fair offer.  I do not believe in any underhand work,” was the ready answer.

“Then you are not like some men I have met,” said Joe, and told about Ulmer Montgomery and his so-called antiquities.

“That man will never amount to anything, Joe—­mark my words.  He will always be a hanger-on as we call them, in the business world.”

“I believe you, sir.”

“Honesty pays in the long run.  A rogue may make something at the start but sooner or later he will find himself exposed.”

Maurice Vane remained at the hotel for a week and then left to go to Chicago on business.  From that point he was going to Montana as soon as the weather permitted.

After that several weeks slipped by without anything unusual happening.  During those days Joe fell in again with Felix Gussing.

“We are going to move to Riverside,” said the dude, if such he may still be called, although he was a good business man.  “I have rented a house there—­the old Martin place—­and if you ever come to the town you must visit us.”

“Thank you, I will,” answered our hero.

“My wife thinks a great deal of you and you must stop at the house during your stay at Riverside,” went on Felix Gussing.

A change came for Joe much quicker than was anticipated.  One night, late in the winter, he was just preparing to retire, when he smelt smoke.  He ran out of his room and to an air shaft and saw the smoke coming up thickly.

“The hotel must be on fire!” he thought.  “If it is, I’ll have to notify the management!”

He jumped rather than ran down the several stairways to the hotel office.  Here he told the proprietor and the cashier.  An examination was made and the fire was located in the laundry.

“Go and awaken all the guests,” said Mr. Drew, and Joe ran off to do as bidden.  Other boys did the same, and before long the guests were hurrying through the hallways and down the elevators and stairs.

By this time the smoke was coming thickly, and presently a sheet of flame burst through at the rear of the hotel.  The fire alarm had been given and several engines and a hook-and-ladder company dashed on the scene.

“Are your guests all out?” demanded a police officer.

“I believe so,” answered Mr. Drew.

“I’m going to take a look around,” said Joe, and darted upstairs once more.

He visited room after room, only to find them empty.  From the rear of the hotel came the crackling of flames and down in the street the fire engines were pounding away, sending their streams of water into the structure.

On the third floor of the building our hero came across an old lady who was rather queer in her mind.  The lady was also lame and walked with great difficulty.

“Oh, Joseph! what is the trouble?” she cried.