Then Jim was aroused and was wide awake in an instant. He knew that he had been robbed and grabbed for the fellow who slipped away as though he had been quicksilver and when Jim who became entangled in the bed clothes got to the door of the sleeper it was locked. Perhaps he has gone the other way, thought Jim, and he rushed to the other end of the car; the door there was likewise locked.
Jim hated to raise a hue and cry, but he was determined to get the thief. The loss of the belt which contained many of the jewels which he had brought from Mexico was a severe jolt. It would cripple him cruelly in his plans for his coming campaign when he reached San Francisco. At all hazards he must recover that belt.
He went to his berth and slipped into his trousers and sweater and then he found the porter apparently asleep in the smoking-room.
"Here you wake up," cried Jim, shaking him by the shoulder; "I've been robbed not three minutes ago."
"I didn't rob you. I dunno nothing about it," declared the porter surlily. "I've been sleeping all the time."
"You go and get the conductor," ordered Jim.
"I can't leave this hyah car," replied the negro.
Jim's face grew hard with anger, and he grabbed the porter by the back of the neck in a grip that fairly made that worthy's bones crack, and lifted him towards the door.
"All right, Boss, all right, I'll fatch him sure," cried the terrified porter. "I dunno you was in such a hurry."
Jim said nothing but kept watch until the porter returned with the conductor to whom he briefly explained the situation. He looked hard at the porter, who began to protest his utter innocence with great vehemence. "Why, Boss, I wouldn't steal a chicken if he crowed right in my face," he concluded.