CHAPTER XVIII.
A MIDNIGHT VISIT.
MARK was confirmed in his belief that Mr. Buffington had left the hotel,because on looking over the book he found no such name. It did not occurto him that Lawrence Perkins was his railroad friend under another_alias_. Mr. Buffington was rich in names, and had masqueraded under atleast a dozen. He, however, had seen Mark's name in the register, andnoted carefully the number of his room. The information seemed to himimportant, especially after he had looked over Mark's shoulder and foundthat he represented a prominent jeweler in New York.
Mark did not fail to keep his appointment at the theater. He arrivedfirst, but five minutes later Mrs. Loring, Florence and a young man,cousin to the latter, made their appearance.
Florence smiled pleasantly, and arranged the party so that Mark shouldsit beside her.
"Now, George," she said to her cousin, "make yourself agreeable tomama, and I will try to entertain Mr. Mason."
"No flirting, Florence," cautioned her cousin.
"Did you ever know me to flirt?" asked Florence in mock indignation.
"Well, occasionally."
"Very well, if I have the reputation I may as well deserve it," and sheproceeded to chat with Mark.
In the gallery, among the cheap seats, sat Mr. Buffington, who wanted towhile away the evening in a pleasant but economical manner. He did notimmediately discover Mark below, but after a time recognized him.
"It is just as well I came here," he reflected, "as the kid won't get tobed till late. Wonder who his friends are. That young lady looksstylish."
Buffington took good care when the play was over to keep out of the wayof the throng issuing from the main entrance. He made his way to thehotel by a devious course, and on arriving went up to his room. Markcame in not long after him, and went up to bed at once. He felt quitetired, but was well pleased with his experiences thus far. He had gotrid of his responsibility, having delivered the diamond ring, receivedpay therefor and forwarded the check to his principal in New York.
"Now I can have a comfortable night's rest," he reflected.
He had nearly fifty dollars with him, but this seemed a trifle comparedwith the diamond pin. Still he considered in what way he could securethis from chance of theft.
There seemed, however, to be very little danger. He had locked the doorinside, leaving the key in the lock. There was no door communicatingwith any other room. After some consideration he decided to hide thewallet containing his money, not under his pillow, but under the sheetat the lower part of the bed where he could feel it with his feet.
"I guess I'll find it safe in the morning," he said to himself.
Now that he was relieved from all anxiety he composed himself to sleep,and in less than ten minutes he was unconscious of all around him.
About an hour later Mr. Buffington in bare feet stood in front of Mark'sdoor. Through the open transom he could hear the boy's peacefulbreathing.
"He is fast asleep," he said to himself with satisfaction. "I know howboys sleep, especially when they are tired. I don't think there will bemuch risk in carrying out my scheme."
He had a skeleton key which would readily have opened the door had thekey not been in the lock on the inside. This fact he soon ascertained.
"It will make it harder for me," he reflected, "but there is thetransom. I shall have to make use of that."
Mr. Buffington, to use the name by which we first knew him, had someexperience as a gymnast. He drew himself up to a level with the transom,and then with considerable difficulty managed to get through.
The room was partially illuminated with moonlight. First of all, ondescending on the other side, he turned the key in the lock so as toafford himself a way of easy escape in case of need.
Though he made some noise in landing Mark was too sound asleep to beaware of it.
"Now where does the boy keep his valuables?" Buffington asked himself.
He searched all Mark's pockets, even to the vest, but without findinganything.
Next he turned his attention to the gripsack, but that proved to containonly wearing apparel. But Mr. Buffington was sharp enough to understandthe ways of wary travelers. He went to the bed, and gently slid his handunder the pillow. That is the most common hiding-place for watches andother valuables. But he made no discovery.
Buffington paused to reflect on the situation.
"The kid has certainly got a pocketbook," he soliloquized. "He can'ttravel without money. Now where is it? That is the question."
He had searched everywhere else. He decided that it must be concealedsomewhere about the bed. Finally he made a correct guess.
He approached the bed at the lower end, and raising the covering beganto feel about in the neighborhood of Mark's feet. Now, as probably allmy young readers know from personal experience, the feet are verysensitive, and there are few who are not "ticklish."
Mark who had been unconscious of the intruder's presence till nowspeedily became aware that some one was fumbling about his feet. On theimpulse of the moment he drew one foot back and extended it suddenly inthe act of kicking.
Mr. Buffington withdrew his hand swiftly, and looked anxiously at thesleeper.
Mark's eyes did not open, and the burglar resolved after a suitablepause to continue his investigations. But Mark's slumbers, since theinterruption, were not as sound as before. When the visitor continuedhis manipulations he woke suddenly, and opening his eyes took in thesituation. He recognized Mr. Buffington's features and at once was wideawake.
But for the fact that the burglar was dangerously near the money hewould have allowed him to keep on. As it was he thought it time tointerfere. He gave a vigorous kick, and called out, "Who's there?"
Buffington understood that his scheme was defeated. To rob Mark when hewas awake was to run too much risk.
He sprang for the door which he had unlocked, as already noted, andopening it dashed out into the corridor. Mark did not propose tofacilitate his flight. He sprang from the bed and called out in a loudtone, "Help! Thieves!"
Now it so happened that the watchman attached to the hotel was justmaking his rounds and was not far off. He ran to the spot, caught sightof the flying figure of the departing burglar, and caught him by theshoulder.
Buffington was a strong man, and could have got away from a man ofordinary muscles. But the watchman was a man of more than averagestrength, having served as porter before he had been transferred to thepost of watchman and detective.
He gripped Buffington in a vise-like grasp.
"No, my man," he said, "you don't get away so easy. Stand still, andgive an account of yourself."
"I am a guest of the hotel," said Buffington sullenly.
"Then why are you not in bed?"
"Because I had a severe headache and thought I would take a little walkin the corridor."
"What made you come into my room?" demanded Mark, who now appeared onthe scene.
"I didn't know whose room it was. I thought it was my own."
"How did you get in? The door was locked."
"No, it wasn't," answered Buffington boldly. "You thought you locked it,but you didn't. Trying the knob it opened at once, and I supposed it wasmy own which I had left unlocked."
"Is that true?" asked the watchman, looking doubtfully at Mark.
"No, it isn't. I took special pains to lock the door, for I knew thatthere was a possibility of my room being entered."
"Then he must have got through the transom. We have had such casesbefore."
"If you have finished asking foolish questions I will go back to bed,"said Buffington with remarkable assurance.
"Wait a minute. Did you see this man in your room?"
The question was addressed to Mark.
"Yes. I woke up while he was there."
"What was he doing?"
"Searching for my purse. He was fumbling about the bedclothes at thefoot of the bed."
"Was your money there?"
"Yes."
Buf
fington's face contracted with disappointment. He had been on thebrink of success, when Mark, unfortunately for him, awoke.
"And you spoke to him?"
"Yes."
"What then?"
"He sprang for the door, and would have escaped if you had not caughthim."
"Did you ever see the man before?"
"I saw him on the train coming here for the first time."
"Did anything happen on the train?"
"Yes. He stole a young lady's pocketbook. I made him give it up."
Buffington looked at Mark menacingly. He would have liked to wreak hisvengeance upon him.
"Do you know his name?"
"He calls himself Rev. Mr. Buffington."
The watchman laughed grimly.
"Sorry to disturb you, reverend sir," he said, "but I shall be obligedto lock you in your room till morning."
Buffington shrugged his shoulders.
"All right!" he said. "I shall at any rate secure a good night's sleep."
The watchman did as he suggested. He shut the burglar in his room, andlocked the door from the outside.
"Now," he said to Mark, "you can sleep undisturbed for the balance ofthe night."
Mark Mason's Victory: The Trials and Triumphs of a Telegraph Boy Page 18
