“I don’t know; I s’pose two or three dollars; you ought to travel on half fare, but it aint worth bothering about; we’ll gather in all the funds we want in Chicago.”
“It strikes me,” remarked McGovern, “that we might as well divide up the money, so that if any one loses his share, we won’t be in a bad fix.”
“I guess that would be a good plan,” replied Tommy, who reached in his trousers pocket for the roll of bills which he had placed there.
He started and turned pale the next moment, and hurriedly ran his hand in his other pocket. Then he sprang to his feet and frantically searched the pockets of his coat and vest.
“What’s the matter?” asked Jimmy, with a sinking of the heart.
“The money is gone!” was the alarming answer.
“No; that can’t be!” faintly exclaimed Billy; “it must be somewhere about you.”
“I put the roll in that, pocket,” replied Tommy, who kept up his search, through all the receptacles, again and again. Then he stooped down, and hunted under the seats with a nervous distress which was fully shared by his companions.
Finally he straightened up and said, despairingly:
“My pocket has been picked, and we haven’t a dollar among us.”