“I did not register,” replied Dave evasively.
“Humph! don’t want to be sociable, eh? Well, shut up, then.”
With a grunt the occupant of the other cot seemed to flounce over and resume his slumbers. Dave did not like the sound of his voice any better than he had the look of his face. He hoped the fellow had not heard the coins drop on the floor. Dave reached out cautiously, groped about, managed to locate several nickels, placed these noiselessly in the pocket book, and was glad that things had quieted down.
Somehow he felt disturbed and uneasy. He knew that the place was second class, and probably housed a good many rough characters. He made up his mind that he would keep awake until daylight, then go back to the railroad depot. He heard two and then three o’clock strike from some neighboring bell tower. By four o’clock he was fast asleep.
In a dreamy sort of a daze, his next waking action was lying with his eyes closed and counting seven strokes of a bell.
“Oh, dear, this won’t do at all,” cried Dave, leaping from the bed to the floor. “Why, I’ll miss the train to Fairfield if I don’t move sharp. Hello—hello!”
Dave came to a standstill, posed like a statue. He stared at the chair by the side of the bed. His clothes were gone!
He rubbed his eyes and looked again. In their stead, lying scattered carelessly on the floor, were the clothes belonging to his boy room mate.
In a second a dreadful flash of dismay and fear came to Dave’s mind. He sprang at the bed he had just left and lifted the pillow quickly.
“Gone! All gone!” he gasped turning cold all over. “I’ve been robbed!”