“I don’t see,” began Cal. But Ned interrupted him.
“I do. It’s as plain as daylight now, Cal. Listen. Do you remember when I told you that I had eight dollars in my collar-box you said you thought it wasn’t safe there?”
Cal nodded doubtfully.
“Well, the night we went for the apples you dreamed of burglars; remember that? You were the burglar, just as you were last night. You had it on your mind that my money was in the top drawer, so you got up in your sleep, took it out of the collar-box and put it here under the apples. You probably thought that the burglars wouldn’t look there; and I guess they wouldn’t! It was you, don’t you see, that Spud saw that night standing at the bureau!”
“But—but I never knew that I walked in my sleep!” objected Cal. Ned shrugged his shoulders.
“Can’t help it, old man; you certainly do. Then last night you had another one of your burglar dreams and so you got up and saved your own coin, and put it in the same place with mine. I guess that explains that mystery, Cal.”
Cal considered a moment. Then,
“I cal’late—I guess it does,” he agreed. “But I never knew—”
“You said that before,” laughed Ned. “Well, I’m glad to get it back, Cal, but I’m a lot gladder to have it explained. Isn’t that the funniest thing you ever heard of? And won’t the fellows have a fit when they hear about it?”
“I suppose so,” muttered Cal. “Only—I wish you wouldn’t say anything about it, Ned. You see, I don’t really intend to walk around like that in my sleep and do funny things.”