“No, and, anyway, he’s asleep, isn’t he?” answered Nelson.
“That’s what I du-du-don’t know,” replied Tom.
“Well, go and see,” laughed Bob. “You don’t have to climb through the port; just take a peek.”
So Tom obeyed, not overanxiously, and displayed splendid caution in the matter of approach. For fully half a minute he leaned over the port. Then he came back, looking excited.
“He’s still asleep! And wh-wh-wh-what do you th-th-think?”
“I don’t think,” answered Bob. “Out with it, and don’t drop too many stitches or he will wake up and murder us all before you’ve unburdened yourself of your fearful secret.”
“He was all ready to su-su-skip out,” said Tom. “There’s a suit case on the floor by the du-du-door and I’ll bet it’s all packed with our things. And he’s got on a pu-pu-pu-pair of Dan’s trousers!”
“How do you know?” asked Nelson.
“Saw them; those woolly, grayish, checked ones.”
“Sorry to queer your little yarn, Tommy,” said Bob, “but you’re letting your imagination run away with you. Dan wore those trousers to New York yesterday.”