"On Washington Street, not very far off--ten or fifteen minutes'

walk."

"If it's a good place, I'm willing."

"It is an excellent hotel, and moderate in price. We might go up there
now, and engage a room, and then spend the evening where we like."

"Very well," said Andy.

They soon reached the Adams House--a neat, unpretending hotel--and
entered. They walked up to the desk, and Fairfax spoke to the clerk.

"Can you give us a room?"

"Certainly. Enter your names."

"Shall we room together?" asked Fairfax, calmly.

Now Andy, though he had had no objection to going to the theater with
his present companion, did not care to take a room with a stranger, of
whom he knew nothing. He might be a very respectable man, but somehow,
Andy did not know why, there was something in his manner which
inspired a little repulsion. Besides, he remembered that he had
considerable money with him, and that consideration alone rendered it
imprudent for him to put himself in the power of a companion. So he
said, a little awkwardly:

"I think we'd better take separate rooms."

"Very well," said Fairfax, in a tone of indifference, though he really
felt very much disappointed. "I thought it might have been a little
more sociable to be together."

Andy did not take the hint, except so far as to say:

"We can take rooms alongside of each other."

"I can give you adjoining rooms, if you desire," said the clerk.

Fairfax here entered his name in the hotel register as "Nathaniel
Marvin, Portland, Maine," while Andy put down his real address. His
companion's was, of course, fictitious. He did not venture to give the
name of Fairfax, as that might be recognized by Andy as that of the
highwayman, with whose little plans he had interfered.

A servant was called, and they went up to their rooms, which, as the
clerk had promised, were found to be adjoining. They were precisely
alike.

"Very comfortable, Mr. Burke," said Fairfax, in a tone of apparent
satisfaction. "I think we shall have a comfortable night."

"I guess so," said Andy.

"Are you going to stay here now?"

"No; I'm going to wash my face, and then take a walk around. I want to
see something of the city."

"I think I'll lie down awhile; I feel tired. Perhaps we shall meet
later. If not, I shall see you in the morning."

"All right," said Andy.

In a few minutes he went out.




CHAPTER XXVII
THE DROP GAME


Fairfax had an object in remaining behind. He wanted to see if there
was any way for him to get into Andy's room during the night, that he
might rob him in his sleep. To his great satisfaction, he found that
there was a door between the two rooms, for the accommodation of
persons in the same party, who wished to be in adjoining apartments.
It was, however, locked, but Fairfax was not unprepared for such an
emergency. He took a bunch of keys from his pocket, and tried them,
one after another, in the lock. There was one that would very nearly
fit. For this again, Fairfax was prepared. He took from the same
pocket a file, and began patiently to file away the key till it should
fit. He tried it several times before he found that it fitted. But at
last success crowned his efforts. The door opened.

His eyes danced with exultation, as he saw this.

"I might as well be in the same room," he said, to himself. "Now, you
young rascal, I shall take your money, and be revenged upon you at the
same time."

He carefully locked the door, and then, feeling that he had done all
that was necessary to do at present, went downstairs, and took supper.
Andy was out, and did not see him.

Meanwhile, our young hero was out seeing the sights. He walked up
Washington Street, and at Boylston Street turned and reached Tremont
Street, when he saw the Common before him. It looked pleasant, and
Andy crossed the street, and entered. He walked wherever fancy led,
and then found himself, after a while, in a comparatively secluded
part. Here he met with an adventure, which I must describe.

Rather a shabby-looking individual in front of him suddenly stooped
and picked up a pocketbook, which appeared to be well filled with
money. He looked up, and met Andy's eyes fixed upon it. This was what
he wanted.

"Here's a pocketbook," he said. "Somebody must have dropped it."

Andy was interested.

"It seems to have considerable money in it," said the finder.

"Open it, and see," said Andy.

"I hain't time. I have got to leave the city by the next train. I
mean, I haven't time to advertise it, and get the reward which the
owner will be sure to offer. Are you going to stay in the city long?"

"I'm going out to-morrow."

"I must go. I wish I knew what to do."

He seemed to be plunged into anxious thought.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said, as if a bright idea had
suddenly struck him. "You take the pocketbook, and advertise it. If
the owner is found, he will give you a reward. If not, the whole will
belong to you."

"All right," said Andy. "Hand it over."

"Of course," said the other, "I shall expect something myself, as I
was the one to find it."

"I'll give you half."

"But I shall be out of the city. I'll tell you what give me ten
dollars, and I'll make it over to you."

"That's rather steep," said Andy.

"Heft it. There must be a lot of money inside."

"I'm afraid the reward might be less than ten dollars," said Andy.

"Well, I'm in a great hurry--give me five."

It is possible that Andy, who was not acquainted with the "drop game,"
might have agreed to this, but a policeman hove in sight, and the
shabby individual scuttled away without further ceremony, leaving Andy
a little surprised, with the pocketbook in his hand.

"What's he in such a hurry for?" thought our hero.

He opened the pocketbook, and a light flashed upon him, as he
perceived that there was no money inside, but was stuffed with rolls
of paper.

"He wanted to swindle me," thought Andy. "It's lucky I didn't pay him
five dollars. Anyway, I'll keep it. The pocketbook is worth
something."

He put it in his pocket, without taking the trouble to remove the
contents.




CHAPTER XXVIII
THE GUEST OF TWO HOTELS


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.




CHAPTER XXIX
A STARTLING EVENT


Sometimes, the mere presence of a person in the room is sufficient to
interrupt even sound repose. At all events, whether it was the
entrance of Fairfax, acting in some mysterious way upon Andy, or the
light that streamed into the room, his slumber was disturbed, and his
eyes opened just as the adventurer was retiring, with his supposed
booty.

Our hero did not immediately take in the situation. He was naturally a
little bewildered, being just aroused from sleep, but in a short time
the real state of the case dawned upon him.

"By the powers!" he said to himself, "it's that man that went to the
museum with me! He saw my money, and he came in for it! I'll get up
and see."

Quietly and noiselessly he got out of bed, and, going to the chair,
felt in his pockets, and so discovered the loss of the stuffed
pocketbook.

Andy wanted to laugh, but forbore, lest the sound should be heard in
the next room.

"It's a good joke on the dirty thafe!" said Andy, to himself. "He's
welcome to all the money, he's got--it won't carry him far, I'm
thinkin'."

Prudence suggested another thought. When Fairfax found out the
worthlessness of his booty, would he not come back and search for the
real treasure?

"If he does, I'll fight him," thought Andy.

Still, he knew the conflict would be unequal, since the other was
considerably his superior in strength. However, Andy determined that,
come what might, he would defend his trust, "or perish in the
attempt." But, while he was coming to this determination, he heard the
door of the adjoining chamber open softly, and then he could hear
steps along the corridor. Evidently, the thief had not found out the
actual character of his booty, but was going off under the impression
that it was valuable.

"Maybe he'll come back," thought Andy. "I guess I'd better go down and
give notice at the desk. Then, if he comes back, he'll get into hot
water."

He hastily dressed himself, and, locking his door, went downstairs.
First, however, he removed the money from under his pillow, and put it
into his pocket. He found the clerk at the desk.

"Has the man that came in with me gone out?" asked Andy.

"Mr. Marvin?"

"Yes."

"He went out about five minutes ago."

"Did he say anything about coming back?"

"He said it would be late when he returned. He asked me if we kept
open after twelve. Did you want to find him?"

"I should like to have the police find him," said Andy.

"How is that?" asked the clerk, surprised.

"He has robbed me."

"Did you leave your door unlocked?"

"No; but there was a door between our rooms. He opened it, and stole a
pocketbook from the pocket of my coat."

"While you were asleep?"

"Yes; but I awoke just in time to see him go through the door."

"How much money was there in it?"

"That's the joke of it," said Andy, laughing; "there was no money at
all, only some folds of paper. He got hold of the wrong pocketbook."

Thereupon, he told the story of the "drop game," of which he came near
being a victim, and what a useful turn the bogus treasure had done
him.

"There's the right pocketbook," he said, in conclusion. "I wish you
would take care of it for me till to-morrow. The money isn't mine, and
I don't want to run any more risk with it."

"I'll lock it up in the safe for you," said the clerk. "Is there
much?"

"Several hundred dollars."

"You were very fortunate in escaping as you did," said the clerk.

"True for you," said Andy. "He may come back when he finds out how he
has been fooled."

"If he does, I'll call a policeman. We'll make short work with him."

The reader has already heard how Fairfax (or Marvin) did return, and
how he met with a reception he had not calculated upon. Andy was
informed in the morning that it would be necessary for him to appear
as a witness against him in order to secure his conviction. This he
did the next day, but the judge delayed sentence, on being informed
that the accused was charged with a more serious offense, that of
stopping a traveler on the highway. His trial on this count must come
before a higher court, and he was remanded to prison till his case was
called in the calendar. Andy was informed that he would be summoned as
a witness in that case also, as well as Colonel Preston, and answered
that he would be ready when called upon.

We will so far anticipate events as to say that the testimony of Andy
and the colonel was considered conclusive by the court, and, on the
strength of it, Mr. Fairfax, alias Marvin, was sentenced to several
years' imprisonment at hard labor.

Andy met with no further adventures in his present visit, but had the
satisfaction of delivering the money he had been sent to collect to
Miss Priscilla Grant.

Now, advancing our story some three months, we come to an afternoon
when Miss Sophia Grant, returning from a walk, with visible marks of
excitement, rushed, breathless and panting, into her sister's
presence.

"What's the matter, Sophia?" asked Priscilla.

"Such an awful thing!" she gasped.

"What is it?"

"You won't believe it."

"Tell me at once what it is!"

"It seems so sudden!"

"Good heavens! Sophia, why do you tantalize me so?"

"Just so!" gasped Sophia.

"If you don't tell me, I'll shake you!"

"Colonel Preston's dead--dropped dead in the store ten minutes ago. I
was there, and saw him."

This startling intelligence was only too true. Suddenly, without an
instant's warning, the colonel had been summoned from life--succumbing
to a fit of apoplexy. This event, of course, made a great sensation in
the village, but it is of most interest to us as it affects the
fortunes of our young hero.




CHAPTER XXX
COLONEL PRESTON'S WILL


Mrs. Preston was a cold woman, and was far from being a devoted wife.
She was too selfish for that supreme love which some women bestow upon
their husbands. Still, when Colonel Preston's lifeless form was
brought into the house, she did experience a violent shock. To have
the companion of nearly twenty years so unexpectedly taken away might
well touch the most callous, and so, for a few minutes, Mrs. Preston
forgot herself and thought of her husband.

But this was not for long. The thought of her own selfish interests