The living rooms of Jennie and her mother were upstairs, over the post office and the express department. There was a spare room that Jack used when he remained over night with his relatives.
"But I think I'll not sleep there to-night," he said, when preparations were being made for retiring.
"Why not?" asked Jennie.
"I want to be down here, near the safe," Jack replied, nodding toward the steel box in which the Argent letters and some registered mail had been placed for security until morning. "I suppose nothing will happen," he went on, "but I shall feel better if I am down here."
"But there is no place to sleep—no bed," objected Jennie.
"A blanket and the soft side of a board will do for me," Jack answered, with a laugh. "I've camped out and slept on the ground often enough not to mind one night of discomfort. Don't worry, I'll be comfortable enough here."
"We can bring down the old lounge if you insist on sleeping here," Mrs.
Blake said.
"Well, I should like to, if you don't mind," Jack answered. And so it was arranged. Jennie and her mother went up stairs, and Jack, without undressing, stretched out on the couch, pulling the blankets over him, for the night was cool with the approach of fall.
Jack's improvised bedroom was in a part of the post office, and in the room adjoining stood the safe, containing the valuable letters. By peering out of a nearby door Jack could have a glimpse of the strong box.
"Maybe I'll have my trouble for my pains," Jack reasoned, "but I'll worry less this way. I wonder if they'll really make any attempt to get in here?"