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The boy who carries your satchel to your room and lights your gas fumbles around and hangs around significantly, and you fee him to get rid of him. Now you may ring for ice-water; and ten minutes later for a lemonade; and ten minutes afterward, for a cigar; and by and by for a newspaper and what is the result?
Then he glanced down at the sidewalk and saw that his valise a handsome new one was missing. A terrible fear came to him. He put his hand to the breast pocket of his coat. Yes, it was true. He had been assaulted and robbed in the street. His money, his return ticket to Philadelphia, were gone, to say nothing of his satchel and the clothes that were in it.
I don't want to be rough I like you but I got to get a glimpse at the inside of that satchel. And I got to examine your personal make-up a bit." "Dear, dear," smiled Professor Bolton, "you don't think I would steal? A man in my position? Absurd. Look through my poor luggage if you desire. You will find nothing but the usual appurtenances of travel."
The careless way in which he had thrown his satchel on the floor beside him, favored this theory. It seemed, on sober thought, extremely unlikely that the bearer of so valuable a piece of property would be so thoughtless as to place it loosely in an unlocked handbag. Even now the real package might be reposing safely in some secure inner pocket. The other solution was equally probable.
Thus saying, he put a large bundle of Testaments into a satchel, and springing upon the crupper of his grey donkey, he cried "Arrhe burra," and hastened away. I sat down to my journal. Ere I had finished writing, I heard the voice of the burra in the courtyard, and going out, I found my host returned.
This was too much for Eloise, who, regardless of pain, drew her foot up under the skirt of her dress, while her face grew scarlet. Both Howard and Jack were sorry for her, and at last got the conversation into another channel by saying they had brought her satchel and hat, which they feared were ruined, and asking if she had seen the hat Miss Amy had sent her. "Land sakes, no!
Go and stand by the grave of one loved when a boy, the little laughing girl you played with at hide-and-seek, through the garden shrubbery and the intricacies of the house and yard, one who was always gentle and kind, she for whom you carried the satchel and books when going to school, who came at noon and divided her blackberry-pie with you, and always gave you the best piece and see how all these memories will come back; and if the green grass upon the roof-top of her home for eternity does not bear, when you have gone away, a tear-drop to sparkle and exhale, a tribute to endearing memory, your heart is not worth the name.
Helen did not decline the offer, and ere half an hour had passed, Aunt Betsy, with her satchel, umbrella and capbox, was comfortably adjusted in Mrs. Banker's carriage with Helen beside her, while Mark bade his coachman drive wherever Miss Lennox wished to go, taking care to reach the train in time.
"He forgets how I saved him at your bungalow," said the motor wizard. "If you pulled him out of that scrape, then, keelhaul me, you deserve all he gives you!" Katz laughed in ugly fashion. "I'll get back what you and Wynn stole from me!" he remarked, stooping over to pick up the satchel. As he bent down, two things happened.
"Ay! and that wad be likely eneuch! for na robber wou'd gae to kill a man wi' siccan a weepon as that," said Rose, who had begun to recover her composure. Then the man began to question her in his turn: "You brought the satchel safely?" "Ay, I brought it safely." "Where is it?" "Lock the door and I'll get it." The man locked the door.
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