Charles declared he
wouldn't leave the hotel till he recovered his property; and for
myself, I was inclined to suppose we would have to remain there
accordingly for the term of our natural lives--and longer.
That night again we spent at the Lakeside Hotel. In the small hours
of the morning, as I lay awake and meditated, a thought broke
across me. I was so excited by it that I rose and rushed into my
brother-in-law's bedroom. "Charles, Charles!" I exclaimed, "we have
taken too much for granted once more. Perhaps Elihu Quackenboss
carried off your dispatch-box!"
"You fool," Charles answered, in his most unamiable manner (he
applies that word to me with increasing frequency); "is _that_ what
you've waked me up for? Why, the Quackenbosses left Lake George
on Tuesday morning, and I had the dispatch-box in my own hands
on Wednesday."
"We have only their word for it," I cried. "Perhaps they stopped
on--and walked off with it afterwards!"
"We will inquire to-morrow," Charles answered. "But I confess I
don't think it was worth waking me up for. I could stake my life
on that little woman's integrity."
We _did_ inquire next morning--with this curious result: it turned
out that, though the Quackenbosses had left the Lakeside Hotel on
Tuesday, it was only for the neighbouring Washington House, which
they quitted on Wednesday morning, taking the same train for
Saratoga which Charles and I had intended to go by.
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