Part 34 (2/2)

”Don't you remember?” said Fosd.i.c.k, after a moment's thought, ”we were speaking of our savings, two or three evenings since?”

”Yes,” said d.i.c.k.

”Our door was a little open at the time, and I heard somebody come upstairs, and stop a minute in front of it. It must have been Jim Travis. In that way he probably found out about your money, and took the opportunity to-day to get hold of it.”

This might or might not be the correct explanation. At all events it seemed probable.

The boys were just on the point of going to bed, later in the evening, when a knock was heard at the door, and, to their no little surprise, their neighbor, Jim Travis, proved to be the caller. He was a sallow-complexioned young man, with dark hair and bloodshot eyes.

He darted a quick glance from one to the other as he entered, which did not escape the boys' notice.

”How are ye, to-night?” he said, sinking into one of the two chairs with which the room was scantily furnished.

”Jolly,” said d.i.c.k. ”How are you?”

”Tired as a dog,” was the reply. ”Hard work and poor pay; that's the way with me. I wanted to go to the theater, to-night, but I was hard up, and couldn't raise the cash.”

Here he darted another quick glance at the boys; but neither betrayed anything.

”You don't go out much, do you?” he said

”Not much,” said Fosd.i.c.k. ”We spend our evenings in study.”

”That's precious slow,” said Travis, rather contemptuously. ”What's the use of studying so much? You don't expect to be a lawyer, do you, or anything of that sort?”

”Maybe,” said d.i.c.k. ”I haven't made up my mind yet. If my feller-citizens should want me to go to Congress some time, I shouldn't want to disapp'int 'em; and then readin' and writin'

might come handy.”

”Well,” said Travis, rather abruptly, ”I'm tired and I guess I'll turn in.”

”Good-night,” said Fosd.i.c.k.

The boys looked at each other as their visitor left the room.

”He came in to see if we'd missed the bank-book,” said d.i.c.k.

”And to turn off suspicion from himself, by letting us know he had no money,” added Fosd.i.c.k.

”That's so,” said d.i.c.k. ”I'd like to have searched them pockets of his.”

CHAPTER XXII

TRACKING THE THIEF

Fosd.i.c.k was right in supposing that Jim Travis had stolen the bank-book. He was also right in supposing that that worthy young man had come to the knowledge of d.i.c.k's savings by what he had accidentally overheard. Now, Travis, like a very large number of young men of his cla.s.s, was able to dispose of a larger amount of money than he was able to earn. Moreover, he had no great fancy for work at all, and would have been glad to find some other way of obtaining money enough to pay his expenses. He had recently received a letter from an old companion, who had strayed out to California, and going at once to the mines had been lucky enough to get possession of a very remunerative claim. He wrote to Travis that he had already realized two thousand dollars from it, and expected to make his fortune within six months.

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