andy wandered about till nine o'clock, determined to see as much of the city as possible in the limited time which he had at his disposal; but at last he became tired, and returned to the hotel. fairfax was seated in the reading-room. he looked up as andy entered.
"have you been looking around the city?" he asked.
"yes," said andy; "i wanted to improve my time."
"i suppose, as this is your first visit, you see a good deal that is new?"
"it's all new," said andy. "i feel tired, walking around so much."
"no doubt. are you going to bed now?"
"i guess i'll turn in."
"i shan't go up quite yet. i have been staying here quietly, and i don't feel tired. i shall go up in the course of an hour or two."
"good-night, then," said andy.
"good-night. i hope you'll sleep sound," said fairfax, who was certainly entirely sincere in this wish, as the success of his plans depended on the soundness of our hero's repose.
andy went upstairs, and lighted the gas in his bedroom. he noticed the door communicating with the next one, and tried it, but found it to be locked.
"that's all right," said andy. "nobody can get in that way."
he locked the principal door, and bolted it, also, which seemed to make him perfectly secure.
"now," thought he, after undressing, "where shall i put the money?"
this was an important question, as he had between five hundred and a thousand dollars belonging to the misses grant, of which it was his duty to take even more care than if it belonged to himself.
"i guess i'll put it under the bolster," he reflected, "covering it up with the sheet. nobody can get in, that i can see, but it is best to be careful."
in emptying his pockets, he came across the pocketbook, with its sham contents, of which mention has already been made.
"i'll leave that in my pocket," he said to himself, with a smile. "i'm not afraid of losing that. by the powers, it wouldn't be much of a prize to the man that took it; i'm sure of that."
he laid his clothes on a chair, in the middle of the room, and jumped into bed, when he soon sank into a deep sleep.
meanwhile, fairfax remained below in the reading-room. he was not at all sleepy, as he had told andy, and his mind was full of the scheme of robbery, which appeared so promising. he was glad andy had retired so early, as he would be asleep sooner, and this would make things favorable for his entering his young companion's chamber. it was his intention, after he had secured the "plunder"—to adopt a western phrase—to come downstairs and leave the hotel, not to return, as otherwise, as soon as andy should discover his loss, the door between the two rooms would, naturally, point to him as the thief.
he didn't go up to his room till half-past ten. this was an hour and a half later than andy retired, and would give him a chance to get fast asleep.
"he must be asleep now," he thought.
on reaching the corridor on which both of the chambers were situated, 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 an hour found himself in the city everywhere known by the granite shaft that commemorates the battle of bunker hill. he made his way to a hotel, where he took a room, entering here under the name of james simmons, portsmouth, new hampshire. anxious to examine his prize, he desired to be shown at once to a chamber. he followed the servant who conducted him with impatient steps. the stolen money was burning in his pocket. he wanted to know how much he had, and was more than half resolved to take an early train the next morning for the west, where he thought he should be secure from discovery.
"is there anything wanted, sir?" asked the servant, lingering at the door.
"no, no," said fairfax, impatiently. "it's all right."
"might be a little more polite," muttered the snubbed servant, as he went downstairs.
"now for it!" exclaimed fairfax, exultingly. "now, let me see how much i have got."
he drew the pocketbook from his pocket, and opened it. his heart gave a quick thump, and he turned ashy pale, as his glance rested upon the worthless roll of brown paper with which it had been stuffed.
"curse the boy!" he cried, in fierce and bitter disappointment. "he has fooled me, after all! why didn't i stop long enough to open the pocketbook before i came away? blind, stupid fool that i was! i am as badly off as before—nay, worse, for i have exposed myself to suspicion, and haven't got a penny to show for it."
i will not dwell upon his bitter self-reproaches, and, above all, the intense mortification he felt at having been so completely fooled by a boy, whom he had despised as verdant and inexperienced in the ways of the, world—to think that success had been in his grasp, and he had missed it, after all, was certainly disagreeable enough. it occurred to him that he might go back to the adams house even now, and repair his blunder. it was not likely that andy was awake yet. he was very weary, and boys of his age were likely, unless disturbed, to sleep through the night. he might retrieve his error, and no one would be the wiser.
"i'll do it," he said, at length.
he went downstairs, and left the hotel without the knowledge of the clerk. jumping into the horse-cars, he returned to boston, and entered the adams house about half-past twelve o'clock. he claimed his key at the desk, and went upstairs to his room. he had scarcely lit the gas, however, when a knock was heard at the door. opening it unsuspiciously, he turned pale, as he recognized the clerk, in company with an officer of the law.
"what's wanted?" he faltered.
"you are wanted," was the brief reply.
"what for?" he gasped.
"you are charged with entering the adjoining room, and stealing a pocketbook from the boy who sleeps there."
"it's a lie!" he said, but his tone was nervous.
"you must submit to a search," said the officer.
"do you mean to insult me?" demanded fairfax, assuming an air of outraged virtue.
"not at all. i am only giving you a chance to clear yourself from suspicion."
"i am a respectable merchant from portland. i was never so insulted in my life," said fairfax.
"if the charge proves groundless, i will make you an ample apology," said the officer.
fairfax was compelled to submit to the search. he cursed his stupidity in not throwing away the worthless pocketbook, but this he had neglected to do, and, of course, it was very significant evidence against him. not only was this found, but the variety of keys already referred to.
"you carry a great many keys," said the officer.
"it isn't a crime to carry keys, is it?" demanded fairfax, sullenly.
"not if no improper use is made of them. i suspect that one of them will open the door into the next chamber."
the keys were tried, and one did open the door. as the light flashed into the room, andy got up.
"come here, young man," said the officer. "can you identify that pocketbook?"
"i can," said andy.
"is it yours?"
"when i went to bed, it was in the pocket of my coat, lying on that chair."
"it is certainly a wonderful pocketbook. i have just found it in that gentleman's pocket."
fairfax's eyes were bent malignantly upon andy. a light flashed upon him. now, he recognized him.
"i know you," he said. "you are the man that stopped colonel preston, and tried to rob him."
"you lie, curse you!" exclaimed fairfax, springing forward, and trying to throw himself upon andy. but he was not quick enough. the officer had interposed, and seized him by the collar.
"not so fast, mr. marvin, or whatever your name is. we don't allow any such games as that. sit down till i want you."
the baffled adventurer was jerked into a chair, from which he continued to eye andy savagely.
"what's that affair you were talking about, young man?" asked the officer.
andy briefly related his adventure with fairfax on a former occasion.
"i'll trouble you to come with me, mr. marvin, or fairfax," said the officer. "there's another hotel where lodgings are provided for such as you."
resistance was useless, and the detected thief, though his name was registered at two hotels, was compelled to occupy a less agreeable room at the station-house. how he was detected will be explained in the next chapter.
