“A whole night!” exclaimed Tom, dubiously. “He ain’t goin’ to make it all up this morning, is he, Bob?”
Tom’s hand rested suggestively upon his stomach again.
“Shucks! Tom Flannery, if you ain’t a idiot, I never saw one! To think Herbert Randolph would sleep all day! Didn’t I tell you he would be right down?”
“So you did, Bob. I forgot that; but you see I wanted to be sure, cause I haven’t had nothin’ to eat yet today.”
Bob looked at his companion with an air of disdain, and made no reply.
Tom, however, was not over sensitive, so he kept on talking about Bob’s adventure at the fence. In the course of half an hour he got the whole story from the young detective. Bob not only told him his own adventures, but gave him all of Herbert’s experience, which he had himself learned from our hero.
It was now about a quarter to nine. Tom looked suggestively at the big hands on the City Hall clock, but said nothing about young Randolph’s non-appearance.
“I don’t see what keeps him,” said Bob, knowing full well what Tom was thinking about.
“Nor I don’t either, Bob. I guess he won’t be down very early.”
“Well, there wasn’t nothin’ to bring him down early.”