"That—that's mine!" exploded Steve. "Where'd you get it?"
The visitor pulled a chair out from the wall and seated himself nonchalantly. "And that," he responded, nodding at the bag on the bed, "is mine. I didn't think the pajamas would fit you and I was mighty sure yours wouldn't fit me. So I dropped around to make an exchange."
"You're the fellow in the station!" exclaimed Tom accusingly.
"Right-o! I'm the 'sneak-thief.'"
"I knew it!" declared Tom triumphantly. "I saw you in the dining-hall and told Steve it was you and he wouldn't believe it!"
"Wouldn't he?" laughed the visitor.
"I suppose it's some sort of a silly joke," said Steve bewilderedly. "Would you mind telling me why you—why you took my bag?"
"Glad to, Edwards. You are Edwards, aren't you? I thought so. And this chap's Hall? Well, my name's Miller. So now we know each other. Would you mind sitting down, you fellows?"
Steve sank on to the bed and Tom retreated to the unoccupied chair, from where he viewed Miller with fascinated attention.
"It was this way, you fellows," explained Miller. "I may be a bit thin-skinned, but I don't like being called a sneak-thief. Edwards here told you, Hall, to look after your bags because there were sneak-thieves around. And then he looked at me very impolitely. After he went away I saw that you really did suspect me of being something of the sort and it occurred to me that it might be amusing to teach you chaps not to pass compliments."