joy his hand came in contact with a pocketbook.
He drew it out without ceremony. It was a comfortable-looking wallet,
fairly bulging with bills.
"He's got all his money inside," thought Graham, delighted. "What a fool
he must be to leave it so exposed--with his door open, too!"
At this moment Graham heard a stir in the lower berth. There was no time
to wait. He glided out of the room, and reentered his own stateroom.
Immediately after his departure Mr. Waterbury, who had awakened in time
to catch sight of his receding figure, rose in his berth, and drew
toward him the garment which Graham had rifled. He felt in the pocket,
and discovered that the wallet had been taken.
Instead of making a fuss, he smiled quietly, and said: "Just as I
expected."
"I wonder if they have robbed Tom, too," he said to himself.
He rose, closed the door, and then shook Tom with sufficient energy to
awaken him.
"Who's there?" asked Tom, in some bewilderment, as he opened his eyes.
"It's I--Mr. Waterbury."
"Is it morning? Have we arrived?"
"No, it is about midnight."
"Is there anything the matter?"
"I want you to see if you have been robbed.'"
Tom was broad awake in an instant.
"Robbed!" he exclaimed, in alarm. He felt for his belt and was relieved.
"No," he answered. "What makes you ask?"
"Because I have had a wallet taken. It makes me laugh when I think of
it."
"Makes you laugh!" repeated Tom, under the transient impression that his
companion was insane. "Why should you laugh at the loss of your money?"
"I saw the thief sneak out of the stateroom," continued Mr. Waterbury;
"but I didn't interfere with him."
"You didn't!" said Tom, completely mystified. "I would. Did you see who
it was?"
"Yes; it was your friend and late roommate."
"Mr. Graham?"
"As he calls himself. I don't suppose he has any rightful claim to the
name."
"Surely, Mr. Waterbury, you are not going to let him keep the money,"
said Tom energetically; "I'll go with you, and make him give it up.
Where is his stateroom?"
"Just opposite--No. 62."
"We had better go at once," said Tom, sitting up in his berth.
"Oh, no; he's welcome to all there is in the pocketbook."
"Wasn't there anything in it?"
"It was stuffed full."
Tom was more than ever convinced that his roommate was crazy. He had
heard that misfortune sometimes affected a man's mind; and he was
inclined to think that here was a case in point.
"You'll get it back
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