Clem, hands in pockets, stared at the floor and then flung himself into a chair. “Well, I’m going to report it. Something will have to be done if a fellow can’t leave his room door unlocked. I don’t care a hang about the money, Jim, but I’d certainly like to catch the sneak that got it!”
Jim, still standing, nodded. “Come to think of it, Clem, it wouldn’t be hard for a fellow to walk in the Meadow street gate and go through a dozen rooms if he found ’em empty. All he’d have to do would be pretend that he was looking for some fellow and didn’t know where he lived, sort of.”
“The way you looked for Dolf Chapin last year,” said Clem, managing a brief smile. “Still, he’d have to get past Mr. Tarbot, and his door is nearly always open and looks right into the corridor down there.”
“Yes, but I guess he isn’t always in,” said Jim. “And even if he saw some one he mightn’t know he wasn’t one of the fellows from another hall. Gosh, I guess he can’t know more than four hundred fellows by sight!”
“No, but there’s never been any stealing like that since I’ve been here,” objected Clem. “Folks don’t come on the campus unless they’ve got business; fellows from the presser’s or the laundry or—and even they aren’t supposed to come upstairs.”
“They do it, though.”
“Yes, I know, but— Now think a minute, Jim. It must have taken a good five minutes to find the keys in that drawer—and you can see by the way things were left that he must have had to hunt for them—and get the suit-case down and unlock it and lock it and put the keys back and everything. An outsider wouldn’t dare take the risk, Jim. How’d he know that one of us wouldn’t walk in on him?”
“Yes, it would be risky,” Jim owned somewhat unwillingly.
“It sure would! No, sir, the guy that pulled this trick knew that we were both out. I dare say he watched us go. Then he had all the time in the world.”