"I guess your father nailed me down, thinking I was Tony Marsh. But how did you come to know it?"
"It was through a dream I had," replied Charley.
"A dream," repeated Tommy, in surprise.
"Yes. I thought you were in a fiery furnace, and called to me for help. The dream was so clear that I couldn't sleep until I had come to see if you were all right."
"Thank you," said Tommy, grasping his hand. "You have saved my life."
He was trembling with excitement and shivering with the cold, so that Charley concluded to offer him half his bed.
"Come and turn in with me," he exclaimed. "I'll stand a thrashing from father. You can't rest here."
"No, indeed," answered Tommy, with a shudder. "I came too near dying here to like the idea. Wouldn't it have been horrible if I had gone to the grave that way?"
"I'll bet you. Wait while I put poor little Tony in the box and fix the lid, or father will think something."
He took hold of Tony, and was about to place him in the coffin when he dropped the body.