Left End Edwards. Barbour Ralph Henry

it. Suddenly, with an exclamation, he thrust it into Steve's hands. "There! Hold it up and let it fall open itself, Steve!"

      "All right. What about it?"

      "Look where it opened!"

      "Page 64."

      "Yes, but what's there?"

      "'Men Who Have Made Football History, by–'"

      "There you are! Don't you see! That's what he was reading. He's a football man and that B is his football letter!"

      "Oh! But, say, Tom, you're forgetting that this suit-case is supposed to have been stolen from someone else. Then what?"

      "We don't know that it was. We just thought so. It looks now as if it really belonged to the fellow."

      "And he went and swapped it for mine? What would he do that for?"

      "Maybe he thought yours might have something valuable in it," faltered Tom. "Maybe—say, Steve, perhaps he got yours by mistake!"

      "Sure!" replied the other sarcastically. "Reached down and dragged it from under your feet, thinking all the while it was his. Sounds very probable—I don't think!"

      "Well, you can see for yourself–"

      "What was that?" interrupted Steve.

      "What was what?"

      "I thought I heard a knock at the door." They listened. It sounded again. Steve hustled the things back into the bag and slammed the lid shut in a twinkling. Then, "Come in!" he called.

      The door opened and a tall youth stepped inside. He carried a suit-case in one hand. Tom gasped. It was the "confidence-man"!

      CHAPTER VII

      THE CONFIDENCE-MAN

      "Hi," greeted the visitor, with a smile, as he slid the suit-case across the floor and faced the two boys. "Want to swap bags?"

      "That—that's mine!" exploded Steve. "Where'd you get it?"

      The visitor pulled a chair out from the wall and seated himself nonchalantly. "And that," he responded, nodding at the bag on the bed, "is mine. I didn't think the pajamas would fit you and I was mighty sure yours wouldn't fit me. So I dropped around to make an exchange."

      "You're the fellow in the station!" exclaimed Tom accusingly.

      "Right-o! I'm the 'sneak-thief.'"

      "I knew it!" declared Tom triumphantly. "I saw you in the dining-hall and told Steve it was you and he wouldn't believe it!"

      "Wouldn't he?" laughed the visitor.

      "I suppose it's some sort of a silly joke," said Steve bewilderedly. "Would you mind telling me why you—why you took my bag?"

      "Glad to, Edwards. You are Edwards, aren't you? I thought so. And this chap's Hall? Well, my name's Miller. So now we know each other. Would you mind sitting down, you fellows?"

      Steve sank on to the bed and Tom retreated to the unoccupied chair, from where he viewed Miller with fascinated attention.

      "It was this way, you fellows," explained Miller. "I may be a bit thin-skinned, but I don't like being called a sneak-thief. Edwards here told you, Hall, to look after your bags because there were sneak-thieves around. And then he looked at me very impolitely. After he went away I saw that you really did suspect me of being something of the sort and it occurred to me that it might be amusing to teach you chaps not to pass compliments."

      "I didn't mean you to hear me," said Steve confusedly.

      "I couldn't help it, as you spoke right out," replied Miller drily. "Well, so when Hall changed his seat I went along and tried to talk to him. But he was foxy, Hall was. He wasn't going to be fooled! When it got to be train time I spun him a yarn about a harmless old man across the room and got him to look at him. Then I changed the bags. I thought you fellows would take the same train and I meant to give you back your bag then. But you weren't on it and so I suppose you were looking around the station for me. Was that it?"

      "I didn't get back in time," said Steve. "We didn't find out about the bags until the train had gone. Then we did look around, and we told a policeman, and–"

      Miller put his head back and laughed delightedly. "Bully!" he cried. "You chaps are wonders!"

      "Well, what would you have done?" asked Tom indignantly. "How were we to know that it was a joke?"

      "Oh, I'd have done the same thing, of course," answered the other soothingly. "Only the idea of the New York police department being on the lookout for me struck me as a bit humorous."

      "Tom says you asked him about Tannersville," said Steve. "How did you know he was from there?"

      "Not difficult," chuckled Miller. "It's on the end of his bag. And I knew he was coming to Brimfield because there was a tag on the handle. I couldn't make out your names, but I could see 'Brimfield, N. Y.' all right."

      Steve and Tom smiled foolishly. "I never thought of that," murmured Tom. "We—we thought you were a confidence-man!"

      "So I thought you thought," laughed Miller. "Well, here's your property, Edwards. I dare say it was rather a mean joke to play on you, but you sort of invited it, you see."

      "I don't care now that I've got it back," responded Steve philosophically. "Tom was certain you were the fellow who took my bag when he saw you in dining-hall and he was all heated up about it. Wanted to arrest you at once, I guess."

      "Well, I was right, though, wasn't I?" demanded Tom. "You said it couldn't be the same chap. But I knew!"

      "Yes, you're some sleuth," agreed Steve. "You were right and I was wrong, as you always are."

      "How about that present you were to give me?" inquired Tom.

      "You'll get it, all right; just before Christmas." Then, to Miller: "We—I had your things out of your bag," he said apologetically. "I thought I'd have to wear those pajamas."

      "They'd have been a bit large, I guess," laughed Miller. "Still, they are brand-clean and you could have wrapped them around you a few times and turned them up at the feet and hands. Well, how have you chaps found everything? All right?"

      "Yes, thanks," said Steve. "We forgot to check our trunks at the Grand Central Station, though, and so we're sort of hard-up for things to wear."

      "Too bad." Miller smiled. "I guess you chaps haven't travelled around much, eh?"

      "Not much. This is the first time we've ever been so far east."

      "Well, I don't blame you for getting a bit confused in New York. It's a tough old place to get around in unless you know the ropes. If you need collars or anything maybe I can help you out. I suppose, though, mine wouldn't fit."

      "We'll get on all right, thanks," replied Steve. "Our trunks will surely be along in the morning. The man who drove us up here had the agent telegraph back for them and said he'd fetch them as soon as they came."

      "Jimmy Horse? He will if he doesn't forget."

      "This fellow said his name was Hoskins, I think," said Tom.

      "Yes, we call him Jimmy Horse. He will probably be along with them before noon. Just depends on whether he remembers them and how busy he is. Still, not many fellows get here before the eleven o'clock train and so he ought to find time to bring the trunks. If he doesn't show up soon after breakfast you'd better telephone to him. The booth's in Main Hall, around the corner from the office. I suppose you saw old 'Quite So'?"

      "Who?" asked Steve.

      "Mr. Brooke, the secretary. We call him 'Quite So' because he's always saying that. Didn't you notice?"

      "I did," said Tom. "I thought maybe he was Mr. Fernald, though."

      "No, you won't see Josh much. He lives around the corner there in The Cottage. You'll be lucky if you don't see him, too. When you call on Josh it's usually because you've been and gone and done something. He will be at Faculty Reception to-morrow evening, though. That's in Upper Hall at eight o'clock. Better go, fellows; everyone does. Have you met your Hall Master, Mr. Daley?"

      "Yes,