“Well now, don’t dat beat all!” cried the colored man, his eyes rolling in wonder. “I went outside jest to take a las’ look aroun’ befo’ turning in, and I seen a young fellow and a man leavin’ de hotel. Dey come right pas’ where a lantern was hung up on the porch, and when dat light struck on de young fellow’s face I thought suah as you’re bo’n it was you. Why, he looked like you, and he had on de same kind of cap and overcoat dat you was a-wearin’ yeste’day. I see you’ve got on something different to-day.”
“A fellow who looked like me and who had on my cap and my overcoat!” ejaculated Dave. He turned to his chums. “What do you make of that?”
“Maybe it was Ward Porton!” cried Roger.
“If it was, he must have run away and taken Dave’s cap and overcoat with him,” added Ben.
CHAPTER XIV
MOVEMENTS OF THE ENEMY
As my readers doubtless surmise, it was Ward Porton who had made off with Dave’s overcoat and cap.
Leaving the room which they occupied on the third floor locked, the young moving-picture actor and his disreputable companion had stolen down the two flights of stairs leading to the lower hallway. Fortunately for them, no one had been present, and it had been comparatively easy for Porton to find Dave’s things and put them on. Tim Crapsey already wore his own overcoat and hat.