it," he said with deep sarcasm. Mr.
Thomas Hall, returning the other's scowl, drummed with his heels on the
suit-case.

"Why didn't you stay and look after it yourself?" he asked angrily. "It
isn't my fault that you went off chasing after fire-engines."

"I didn't chase after fire-engines. You said you'd watch my bag and----"

"I did watch it!"

"Oh, yes, fine! Let someone pinch it right under your eyes! I notice you
managed to keep your own bag all right!"

"Oh, dry up!" growled Tom.

Silence ensued until a conductor appeared and demanded tickets. Yielding
their transportation, the boys were informed that they were in a parlour
car and must pay twenty-five cents apiece to ride to Brimfield. Tom laid
hold of his bag with a sigh, but Steve unemotionally produced a quarter
and so Tom followed suit. When the conductor had disappeared again
through the curtain Steve said:

"Why didn't they tell us this was a parlour car? How were we to know?"

"They just wanted our money, I suppose," replied Tom bitterly.
"Everybody in this place is after your money. I wish I was home!"

"So do I," agreed Steve gloomily. More silence then, until,

"I don't see how he ever did it," remarked Tom. "I had both bags between
my feet. He was certainly slick. I suppose when he told me to look at
'Four-Fingered Phillips' I sort of turned around and switched my legs
away from the bags. But he must have been mighty quick."

"Of course he was quick," said Steve contemptuously. "I warned you
against that fellow."

"That's all right, but I'll bet he'd have played the same trick if it
had been you instead of me," replied Tom warmly.

"I'll bet he wouldn't!"

"All right!" Tom shrugged his shoulders and looked out the window. They
had the compartment to themselves, which, in view of the remarks which
were passed, was fortunate.

"It isn't all right, though," pursued Steve. "That bag had all my things
in it: pajamas, brushes and comb and collars and handkerchiefs and--and
everything! I'd like to know what I'm going to sleep in!"

"I dare say we'll get our trunks to-night," said Tom soothingly. "If we
don't you can have my pajamas."

"What'll you wear?" asked Steve more graciously.

"Anything. I don't mind. I say, Steve, let's see what's in the bag he
left!"

"Would you?" asked Steve doubtfully.

"Why not? He's got yours, hasn't he?"

Steve lifted the suit-case to the seat beside him and tried the catch.
It was not locked and opened