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Sitting on the edge of his bed, quaint in his cotton night-gown, like a rare little bird of dull plumage, he rubbed his head sleepily. Um-m-m-m-m! How tired he was! He went to open the window. Then his tamed heart leaped into a waltz, and he forgot third-floor-fronts and sleepiness. Through the window came the chorus of fog-horns on North River. "Boom-m-m!"
He sat down in front of the strong steel box, and began to turn the combination. It was quite complicated, and took some time. "Um-m-m-m-m!" exclaimed Bob, with a lazy stretch. "I'm beginning to feel sleepy. Guess I'll lie down on this couch and rest." He did so, and, somewhat to his companions' surprise, was soon apparently asleep. "He must be pretty well played out," remarked Ned.
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