"And then there was nothing of importance in the pockets—no papers that could be of any possible value to any one. It is an outrage—tell General What-You-May-Call-Him that I consider it an outrage on a helpless prisoner to have his clothing sneaked away in the middle of the night, either for the profit of the jailor or the possible information of his captors. Mr. Wyman, is there nothing that can be done in this matter?"
General Serano spoke a few words to the interpreter, who promptly repeated them with evident glee.
"The general says you are to get out of bed."
"It's all up now," thought Bert, and his face turned a shade paler.
"The general is inconsiderate; however, since he insists I will take the chances of another chill."
As Harry spoke he drew his legs up from under the sheet and stood down on the floor clad only in his underclothing. He had somehow managed to slip out of the girl's dress while he protested against the disappearance of his clothing. Bert drew a breath of relief; but the respite was brief. General Serano, either thoughtlessly or by design, threw back the sheet from Harry's bed as soon as he touched the floor and disclosed the dress from which he had with difficulty extricated himself.
"Whose is this?" demanded the general, pouncing on the garment and holding it out for inspection.
"Whose is this?" repeated the interpreter like a parrot.
"How should I know," answered Harry.
"Probably belongs to one of your former tenants."