The
rejection of his friendly proffers had caused him to take a dislike
to Dick and Henry, whom he considered stiff and unsocial.
"What makes you think it was Travis?" asked Fosdick. "He isn't at
home in the daytime."
"But he was to-day. He said he had got a bad cold, and had to come
home for a clean handkerchief."
"Did you see him?" asked Dick.
"Yes," said Mrs. Mooney. "Bridget was hanging out clothes, and I
went to the door to let him in."
"I wonder if he had a key that would fit our drawer," said Fosdick.
"Yes," said Mrs. Mooney. "The bureaus in the two rooms are just
alike. I got 'em at auction, and most likely the locks is the same."
"It must have been he," said Dick, looking towards Fosdick.
"Yes," said Fosdick, "it looks like it."
"What's to be done? That's what I'd like to know," said Dick. "Of
course he'll say he hasn't got it; and he won't be such a fool as to
leave it in his room."
"If he hasn't been to the bank, it's all right," said Fosdick. "You
can go there the first thing to-morrow morning, and stop their
paying any money on it."
"But I can't get any money on it myself," said Dick. "I told Tom
Wilkins I'd let him have some more money to-morrow, or his sick
mother'll have to turn out of their lodgin's."
"How much money were you going to give him?"
"I gave him three dollars to-day, and was goin' to give him two
dollars to-morrow."
"I've got the money, Dick.
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