readily. There wasn't a great deal in it: a
pair of lavender pajamas at which Steve sniffed sarcastically, a
travelling case fitted with inexpensive brushes and things and marked
"A. L. M.," a pair of slippers, a magazine, a soiled collar, one clean
handkerchief and a grey flannel cap with a red B sewed on the front
above the visor.

"Wonder whose they are," mused Tom, as Steve spread the trousers of the
pajamas out and viewed them dubiously. They were several sizes two large
for Steve, but they might do if his trunk didn't come in time. "I
suppose that fellow swiped this bag, found there wasn't anything
valuable in it and thought he'd swap it for another."

"Maybe there was something valuable in it when he got it," said Steve.
He tossed the things back and closed it again. "It's a pretty good
suit-case; better than mine. Do you suppose it would do any good to
advertise?"

"I don't suppose so. Besides, that cop said that he'd have them search
the pawnshops. If the police don't find it I guess an advertisement
wouldn't do any good, Steve."

"Well, I suppose there's no use crying over spilled milk," replied the
other, setting the suit-case back in its place. "After all I can buy new
things for five dollars or so and I guess father will send me the money
when I tell him about it."

Tom frowned thoughtfully. Finally, "Say, Steve, if you won't tell him
how it happened I'll pay for what you lost myself."

"What for?"

"I--I'd rather he didn't know, that's all."

"Oh! Well, I won't tell him you had anything to do with it, Tom. You
didn't, either," he added after a moment. "It wasn't your fault, Tom.
It--it would have happened to me just the same way, I'll bet."

"You could just say that the bag was stolen, couldn't you?" asked Tom
more cheerfully. "I mean you needn't go into particulars, you know. It
doesn't really matter _how_ it happened as long as it _did_ happen."

"No, of course not. I'll just say it was stolen while we were waiting
for the train. I guess five dollars will be enough. Let's see. Pajamas
cost two and a half, brushes----"

"You getting off at Brimfield, gentlemen?" asked the porter, putting his
head through the curtains and waving a brush at them.

"Yes. Are we there?" asked Tom startledly.

"Pretty near, sir. Want me to brush you off, sir?"

"I guess so." By the time that ceremony had been impressively performed
and two dimes had changed places from the boys' pockets to the porter's,
the