Part 19 (1/2)
”Any chance of doing anything to-night?”
”No, I think not.”
Vincent sank back on his pillow, and Graham got back into his berth.
Quietly he drew the wallet from his pocket, in which he had placed it, and eagerly opened it. The huge roll of bills was a pleasant and welcome sight.
”There's all of six hundred dollars here!” he said to himself. ”I mustn't let Vincent know that I have them.”
It occurred to Graham that, of course, Mr. Waterbury would proclaim his loss in the morning, and it also occurred to him that he might be able to fasten suspicion upon Tom, who, as his roommate, would naturally have the best chance to commit the robbery. One thing might criminate him--the discovery of the wallet upon his person. He therefore waited till Vincent was once more asleep, and, getting up softly, made his way to the deck. He drew the bills from the wallet, put them in an inside pocket, and threw the wallet into the river.
”Now I'm safe,” he muttered, with a sigh of relief. ”The money may be found on me, but no one can prove it is not my own.”
He gained his berth without again awakening his companion.
”A pretty good night's work!” he said to himself, in quiet exultation.
”Alone I have succeeded, while Vincent lies in stupid sleep. He is no match for me, much as he thinks of himself. I have stolen a march upon him this time.”
It is not in accordance with our ideas of the fitness of things that a man who has committed a midnight robbery should be able to sleep tranquilly for the balance of the night, but it is at any rate certain that Graham slept soundly till his roommate awakened him in the morning.
”Rouse up, Graham,” he said. ”Breakfast is nearly ready.”
”Is it?” asked Graham.
”Instead of sleeping there, you ought to be thinking how we can make a forced loan from our acquaintances in 61.”
”To be sure,” said Graham, smiling. ”I am rather stupid about such things. Have you any plan to suggest?”
”You seem very indifferent all at once,” said Vincent.
”Not at all. If you think of anything practical I am your man.”
He longed to get rid of Vincent, in order to have an opportunity of counting his roll of bills.
CHAPTER XIII.
GRAHAM'S DISAPPOINTMENT.
Milton Graham, on reaching a place where he could do so un.o.bserved, drew from his pocket the roll of bills, with a smile of exultation. But the smile faded, and was succeeded by a look of dismay, when he recognized the worthlessness of his booty. An oath rose to his lips, and he thrust the roll back into his pocket, as he noticed the approach of a pa.s.senger.
”It's a cursed imposition!” he muttered to himself, and he really felt that he had been wronged by Mr. Waterbury.
”What are you doing out here, Graham?” asked Vincent, for it was his confederate who approached.
”Nothing in particular. Why?” responded Graham.
”What makes you look so glum?”