"Then I don't object to occupying it with this young man. He is a stranger to me, but I watched him on board the train, and I am sure he is all right."

"Thank you, sir," said Fred.

"Well," said the clerk, "what does the boy say?"

Fred looked curiously at his companion. He was so m.u.f.fled up that he could only see a pair of black eyes, a long sallow nose, and cheeks covered with dark whiskers. The train boy did not fancy his looks much, but could think of no good reason for declining him as a room companion. He felt that the gentleman had paid him a compliment in offering to room with him, particularly when, as he stated, he had a considerable amount of money about him. He paused a moment only, before he said, "Perhaps we may as well room together, then."

"All right! I will go up with you, as the hall boy has gone to bed. I hardly expected any guests by this late train."

The clerk took the stranger's valise--Fred had only a small paper parcel in his hand, containing a clean shirt and a collar which he had bought in Jersey City before taking pa.s.sage on the train. Up one flight of stairs the clerk preceded them and paused in front of No. 21, the back room referred to. He unlocked the door, and entering, lighted the gas.

It was a room about twelve feet wide by twenty in depth. At each end was a single bedstead.

"I think you will be comfortable," said the clerk. "Is there anything you want before retiring?"

"No," answered both.

CHAPTER X.

WHAT TOOK PLACE IN NO. 21.

The clerk closed the door, leaving Fred alone with the stranger.

The latter sat down in one of the two chairs with which the room was provided.

"I am not sleepy," he said. "Are you?"

"Yes," answered Fred, gaping. "I am not used to late hours. Besides, I was up early this morning."

"That makes a difference. I didn't get up till eleven. I was about to propose a game of cards."

"I don't care for playing cards," said Fred. "Besides, I am sleepy."

"All right! You won't object to my sitting up awhile and reading?"

Fred would have preferred to have his companion go to bed, as he was not used to sleep with a light burning. He did not wish to be disobliging, however, and answered that he didn't mind.

The stranger took from his hand-bag a paper-covered novel, and seating himself near the gas jet, began to read.

Fred undressed himself and lay down. He remembered with a little uneasiness that he had with him the hundred dollars in gold which had been intrusted to him by the miner. He had had no opportunity as yet to deposit it in the Union Dime Savings Bank, as he had decided to do, and had not thought to leave it with his mother. He wished now that he had done so, for he was about to pa.s.s several hours in the company of a man whom he knew nothing about. Still, the man had plenty of money of his own, or at least he had said so, and was not likely therefore to be tempted to steal.

Fred took his place in bed, and looked over toward the stranger with some uneasiness.

"Are you a good sleeper?" asked his companion carelessly.

"Yes," answered Fred.

"So am I. I don't feel sleepy just at present, but presume I shall within twenty minutes. I hope I don't inconvenience you by sitting up."

"No," answered Fred slowly.

"I've got my book nearly finished--I began to read it on the train.

When do you expect to go back?"

"Monday morning," Fred answered.

"That's good! We will go and see the Falls together to-morrow. Ever seen them?"

"No, sir; this is my first visit to Niagara."

"I have been here several times, so I know the ropes. I shall be glad to show you just where to go. But pardon me. I see you are sleepy. I won't say another word. Good night, and pleasant dreams!"

"Good night."

The stranger continued to read for twenty minutes. At any rate he appeared to do so. Occasionally he glanced over toward Fred's bed. The train boy meant to keep awake till his companion got ready to go to bed, but he was naturally a good sleeper, and his eyes would close in spite of him; and finally he gave up all hope of resistance, and yielded to the inevitable.

Soon his deep, regular breathing showed that he was unconscious of what was pa.s.sing around him.

The stranger rose, walked cautiously to the bed, and surveyed the sleeping boy.

"How peacefully he sleeps!" he said. "He has nothing on his conscience.

At his age it was the same with me. I started right, but--circ.u.mstances have been too much for me. There won't be much sleep for me to-night, for the detectives are doubtless on my track. I must get rid of one damaging piece of evidence."

He opened his valise, and, after searching a little, drew therefrom a ma.s.sive gold watch rather old-fashioned in appearance, attached to a solid gold chain. Neither was new, and both had evidently been used for a considerable number of years.

"I was a fool to take these," said the stranger. "They are more likely to fasten suspicion on me than anything else. However, I have a good chance now to get rid of them."

Fred had laid his newspaper parcel on a small table near his bed. The other carefully untied the twine with which he had fastened it, and, putting the watch and chain inside the shirt, he carefully wrapped it up again, and tied it with the same cord.

"The boy will be considerably surprised he opens his bundle and discovers these," he reflected, with a smile. "He will be a little puzzled to know how they came there. Well, that is none of my business.

Self-preservation is the first law of nature, and it is important I should get rid of such tell-tale clews."

This piece of business over, the stranger stretched himself and took off his coat. He was proceeding to undress when a sudden thought deterred him.

"On the whole," he said to himself, "I will go to bed as I am. I may have occasion for a sudden start. It is best to be on the safe side."

He laid his coat on the back of a chair, and putting out the gas, stretched himself on the bed. He had not thought himself sleepy, but a rec.u.mbent position brought on a drowsy feeling, and before he was well aware of it he had sunk to sleep. But his slumber was not as sound or restful as the train boy's. From time to time he uttered e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns, as if he were terror-stricken, and once he waked up with a cold perspiration on his brow. It took a minute for him to realize his position.

"What a fool I am!" he muttered in disgust. "I thought the police had nabbed me, but all's safe so far. If I could only get a little more sleep--as sound and peaceful as that boy is enjoying--I should wake revived in the morning. There is no reason why I shouldn't. They can't have got on my track so soon."

He closed his eyes, and succeeded in dispelling the uneasy feeling which sprang from the consciousness of having exposed himself to the danger of arrest. It was now three o'clock. In fifteen minutes he was sleeping again, and this time his slumbers were less disturbed and uneasy. He awoke suddenly to find the sun streaming into the room.

"It must be late!" he thought, a little nervously.

But on examining his watch he found that it was only six o'clock.