“Why, here’s a kid comes into my room when I’m asleep and takes my cash right from under my pillow. I wake up just in time to see him sneak back into his room and when I get him with the goods on him he has the impudence to deny it. There’s part of the cash,” and he showed Ned’s money, “but I want the rest. Better call a policeman, Bill.”
“All right, boss. Just as you say,” and the porter shuffled off.
“Do you mean to say you’re going to have me arrested on a charge of stealing your money?” asked Ned.
“That’s what I am unless you give it up.”
“But I didn’t take it. It must have been some one else, if you really were robbed. Why don’t you look in some of the other rooms along here?”
“Because I saw you come in here after you were in my room, and had your hand under my pillow.”
“Couldn’t you be mistaken?”
“Not much. I’ve been in this business too long. ’Tisn’t the first time I’ve been robbed, but it’s the first time I got the thief and I’m goin’ to make an example of you.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” Ned said, trying to speak bravely, but the accusation, unjust as it was, coupled with his other misfortunes was almost too much for him.
“I’ll take the chances on that. Who are you, anyhow? What’s your name, and where’d you come from?”