He spoke so naturally that the clerk was inclined to think his suspicions were needless, and that Sam was really an authorized agent of the real depositor. But when he got into the street, Sam's vexation found vent.
"Everything goes against me," he grumbled. "It hasn't done me a bit of good taking this book. I shall only have the trouble of putting it back again. I can't do it now, for I must go back to the store, without my lunch, too."
He counted upon replacing the book before it was missed; but Henry reached home first, and discovered his loss, as related in the preceding chapter.
CHAPTER XV. — SAM IS FOUND OUT.
Henry was not a little disturbed at the disappearance of his bank-book. He felt confident that he had laid it away in his trunk, and in that case it must have been stolen. But who possessed a key to the trunk? Could it be Sam? Henry recalled Sam's application for a loan, and he feared that it was really he. He determined to make inquiries as soon as his roommate came home.
He had scarcely formed this determination when Sam entered.
"You are home early, Henry," he said.
"No; it is you who are late."