uated,
he stood a moment before Andy's door, and listened. It was not often
that our young hero was guilty of snoring, but to-night he was weary,
and had begun to indulge in this nocturnal disturbance. The sounds
which he heard were very satisfactory to Fairfax.

"The boy's fast asleep," he muttered. "I'll go into his room, and make
quick work of it. Fairfax, you're in luck, for once. Fortune has taken
a turn."

Softly he opened the door of his own room, and entered. He lit the
gas, and then, going to the door of communication between the two
rooms, he listened again. There was no cessation of the sounds which
he had heard from the outside. He determined to make the attempt at
once. Taking the proper key from his pocket, he fitted it into the
lock, and, turning it, the door opened, and he stepped into the
adjoining apartment. It was dark, for Andy had extinguished the gas on
going to bed, but the gas from his own room made it sufficiently light
for his purpose. He at once caught sight of Andy's clothes lying on
the chair, where he had placed them. He glanced cautiously at our
hero, as he lay extended upon the bed, with one arm flung out, but he
saw no reason for alarm. Quickly he glided to the chair with noiseless
step (he had removed his boots, by way of precaution), and thrust his
hand into the pocket of the coat. It came in contact with the false
pocketbook, which seemed bulky and full of money. Fairfax never
doubted that it was the right one, and quickly thrust it into his own
pocket. Just then Andy moved a little in bed, and Fairfax retreated,
hastily, through the door, closing it after him.

"Now, the sooner I get out of this hotel, the better!" he thought.
"The boy may wake and discover his loss. It isn't likely, but it may
happen. At any rate it's very much better to be on the safe side."

He did not stop to examine the prize which he had secured. He had no
doubt whatever that it contained the money he was after. To stop to
count it might involve him in peril. He, therefore, put on his boots,
and glided out of the chamber and downstairs.

To the clerk who was at the desk he said, as he surrendered his key:

"How late do you keep open? Till after midnight?"

"Certainly," was the reply.

"All right. I may be out till late."

He left the key, and went out into the street. He hailed a passing car
in Tremont Street, and rode for some distance. In Court Street he got
on board a Charlestown car, and in half