Awaiting the psychological moment, Sid hurried out, and bumped into the college messenger. Wallops’ bundle was knocked from under his arm, and, by a strange coincidence, so was Sid’s.
“I beg your pardon!” exclaimed the student in an assumed voice. “Awfully careless of me, I’m sure. I beg a thousand pardons! I was in a hurry, and I didn’t notice you. Is this the road to Haddonfield?”
“That’s all right,” replied Wallops good naturedly as his pardon was begged again. “Yes, keep straight on, and you’ll come to the trolley that runs to Haddonfield.”
“Let me restore your bundle to you,” went on Sid, picking up both parcels.
He handed one to the messenger, and kept one himself.
“’Twas yours, ’tis mine; ’twas his, ’tis ours,” he paraphrased. “Again let me express my sincere sorrow at this happening. I trust there was nothing in your package that could be damaged when I knocked it from your grasp.”
“No, nothing but some clothes of one of the college professors. It’s all right.”
“And I’m sure my package isn’t damaged,” said Sid, in a queer voice, as he hurried away.
A little later he was telling Tom, with much mirth, how it all came about. The two, in the seclusion of their room, opened the bundle, and saw two suits, one full dress.
“Won’t he howl when he finds nothing but a lot of newspapers!” exclaimed Sid. “Now for the rest of the trick.”