"Nothing, but you breathe so hard—sort of choky and gaspy."
"That's you doing that," said Frank. "I can't sleep with you snorting so."
"I tell you it's you!" said Bill. "I listened to myself breathe, and you couldn't hear me. I was breathing just like this." He gave a sample, and you could not hear him. Then as both boys listened, things began to happen.
Frank made a light leap from his bed and landed on top of the stunned, scared and astonished Bill.
"Sssssh!" hissed Frank. "The money!... Robbers!... Under the bed!"
Frozen with horror, the boys listened intently. The breathing was under Bill's bed. It seemed as though they lay listening for a week before Bill made a violent motion to free himself from Frank's grasp.
"Where you going?" hissed that youth.
"To light the light and give the alarm. If he tries to get out, we will hold him."
"Stay here!" commanded Frank.
For answer Bill wrenched himself free and bounded out on the floor. With another bound he reached the light and turned the button. No light responded. He stood beside the wall, uncertain what move to make next. The sensible thing seemed to be to shout an alarm or else go out and find Mr. Nealum. In either case what would the robber do to Frank, who was roosting right above him? The breathing under the bed continued, now fast, now slow, up and down. Bill had heard something like that somewhere.