Just then the outer door opened and a uniformed officer stepped into the room.
“His honor, the mayor, begs me to say,” he gravely announced, “that as Master Robert Taylor has said that he would be pleased to sleep, he must go to sleep—and at once. His honor trusts that Master Taylor will respect and obey the law of the land, without further warning.”
The officer bowed and turned and left the house.
“Well, I declare!” Bob gasped, completely taken aback. “What kind of a country is this, anyhow?”
Fitz Mee tumbled to the floor, and rolled and roared.
The ludicrousness of the situation appealed to the fun-loving Bob, and he joined in his companion’s merriment. Together they wallowed and kicked upon the floor, prodding each other in the ribs and indulging in other rude antics indicative of their exuberant glee.
When they had their laugh out Bob remarked:
“Well, I’ll go to bed, Fitz, just to obey the law; but I don’t suppose I can snooze a bit.”
Contrary to his expectations, however, the lad, really wearier than he realized, soon fell asleep. He slept through the day and far into the hours of darkness; and it was almost dawn of the next day when he awoke. He quietly arose and began to inspect his surroundings. A soft white radiance flooded the room. He drew aside the window-blind and peeped out. Darkness reigned, but bright lights twinkled here and there. He dropped the blind and again turned his attention to the things within.