He led the way, followed by Dave and his chums. The youths were much astonished to see him halt at the door next to their own.
“They don’t seem to be there, or otherwise they are sleeping pretty soundly,” remarked the hotel proprietor, after he had knocked on the door several times.
“I guess you had better unlock the door,” suggested Dave. “I rather think you will find the room empty.”
A key was secured from one of the maids and the door was opened. The proprietor gave one look into the apartment.
“Gone!” he exclaimed. “Say! do you think they have run away?”
“That’s just exactly what I do think,” answered Dave. “And that fellow who looks like me most likely took my cap and overcoat.”
“And you say his name is Porton? He signed our register as William Jones.”
“Here’s his hat and coat,” announced Phil, opening the door to a closet. “Pretty poor clothing he left you in return for yours, Dave,” continued the shipowner’s son, after an inspection.
The hotel proprietor was very wrathy, declaring 145 that Porton and his companion owed him for three days’ board.
“They’re swindlers, that’s what they are!” he cried. “Just wait till I land on them! I’ll put them in jail sure!”