Directly the door flew open, and in came the chambermaid, and rushed to the commode with clean towels. We had forgotten to lock the door. Frank, with his fund of ready wit, instantly jumped to the floor, and sang out: "Well, put on your gloves again; I'll try you one more round before supper!"

When the door closed on us we had a good laugh, as we had frequently indulged in, when sitting there in that awkward, shirtless, expectant predicament.

Our laugh, although hearty, was of short duration, for we suddenly became serious and anxious about the return of "the kid." An hour pa.s.sed and no kid, and--still worse--no shirts.

We walked the floor, opened the door and looked towards the stair-way, then raised the window curtain and peeked out upon the street, hoping to get a glimpse of him.

Another half hour pa.s.sed, and no "kid." We imagined everything that could have befallen him.

Two hours pa.s.sed; another half hour--and we had been imprisoned two hours and-a-half--and it was now about supper time.

A few moments later I opened the door, and looking towards the stair-way, discovered "the kid," leaning over the bannister, gazing vacantly in the direction of our room.

I yelled:

"Come here, kid! For Heaven's sake, what's up?"

"Yer never'll git me inter de room, ter be pitched out de winder," he replied.

"No, no," we said, "come in; come in and explain. We won't harm you.

Come in."

He then ventured in, very cautiously, and explained:

"Well, sir gemmen, de ole gal nailed 'em all, spite of eb'ry ting I could do; she got de whole shootin' match, and I didn't know whedder to come back or not."

"Heavens and earth! Frank; what are we going to do now?" I asked.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HEAVENS AND EARTH! FRANK; WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO NOW?--PAGE 193.]

"Well," said he, "this has been a great scheme of yours. That's a great head, yours. Guess we're stuck for good, this time."

"The kid" said he guessed he'd have to go to supper.

We told him we guessed he'd not go to supper till he got us out of that shirt sc.r.a.pe. "Remember your oath, you young hyena," I said.

He answered: "That's so; guess I'll have to go without my supper, to-night."

At last, after many schemes had been devised and rejected, we hit upon one that helped us out. We demanded of "the kid" that he take off his shirt; and after donning his coat and vest, instructed him to throw back his coat-collar, and go down street to some furnishing-goods dealer, and either beg, or buy on credit, a shirt. We began telling him what to say, when he headed us off with:

"Oh, whatcher givin' us? I guess I know how ter give 'em der stiff," and started.

He called on several dealers; and after giving "De song and dance,"

finally made a raise of a new shirt.

We asked what the man said when he called for such a large size?

"Oh, de ole hoosier neber tumbled at all, but just planked 'er out, and said: 'If yer eber git any money, come an' pay fer it.'"

We asked if he thought he could manage to get another one in the same way.

He said he was afraid to try, because an officer was going to run him in "'cause he hadn't any shirt on, and looked so tough."

I then donned the shirt, also a paper collar and cuffs, and went down to supper, leaving Frank to silent meditation.

After eating, I returned to the room, took off the shirt, and Frank put it on and went to supper, while I remained and did the meditation act.

He staid away more than two hours, which worried me considerably.

I wondered what upon earth had become of him, but felt certain he was too true a friend to abscond with my half of the shirt.

Even if it wasn't paid for, I knew by right that I owned _half of that shirt_.

When he did return he brought good news.

He had spent over an hour with a furnishing-goods dealer, "squaring him up" so as to buy some things on credit.

When asked with what luck, he answered:

"Well, I ordered six shirts, six pairs of socks, two dozen linen collars, one dozen pairs linen cuffs, and one dozen handkerchiefs, with instructions to send them to the hotel office, and Mr. Johnston would send them a check in a day or two," and added that the goods would be delivered that evening.

"But, Frank," I said, "you will get us into trouble. How can we fix the check business? You know I can't send them one. It'll make us trouble, sure."

"Very well, it can't make us any worse trouble than we are having. As for myself, I'd rather go to jail with a shirt on, than to sit here in this dingy, gloomy old room half of my time without any."

"Yes," I said, "that's so. I'd rather go on the chain-gang for thirty days, than go through another such an ordeal as this."

The goods were not sent as promised, and we spent a very restless night.

I dreamed of arriving home without any shirt on, and in my dream heard my mother's voice saying: "Well, I am really glad you reached home with your pants on," while Mr. Keefer remarked: "It does beat the d----l!"

Frank dreamed he was in attendance at a swell entertainment, and suddenly discovered the absence of his shirt.

I insisted that Frank should not sleep in the shirt, in order to keep it clean as long as possible, and to keep peace he laid it off when retiring. In the morning I was the first one up, and proceeded to put it on.

As I was pa.s.sing through the hall on my way to breakfast, I met the chambermaid. She smiled and asked if we made a practice of sparring every day.

I replied: "We always take our regular exercises."

She said: "How nice it is to be rich. Just see how much pleasure you gentlemen take in your every-day amus.e.m.e.nts, while people like us have to work hard, and never have any pleasure."

I told her that we always had great times, wherever we were. She said she guessed that was so.

After breakfast I returned to the room, and let Frank have the shirt to wear to breakfast; after which he came in with a large package containing his order.

I lost no time in getting into a shirt, and, in fact, to tell the truth, we each put on three shirts, for fear that some unforeseen accident might occur. I might also add that we resolved when we put those shirts on, that no outside one should ever be taken off unless it was actually _soiled_.

The old adage, "Misfortunes never come singly," was well ill.u.s.trated in our case; for before night I was interviewed by the landlord in quite an unexpected manner. While standing near the wash-room he came rushing up to me, and calling me to one side, said: