After dinner Sam and his roommate took a walk. As they passed the Boston theater, Abner proposed going in; but Sam knew very well that the expense of both tickets would come upon him, and declined.

"I am tired," he said; "I've been walking about all day, and, besides, I got up very early in the morning. I would rather go home and go to bed."

"Lend me a dollar, and I'll go," said Abner. "I don't feel sleepy."

"Not much," answered Sam. "When you've got your money, it will be time enough to go to the theater; but if you haven't got any more than I have, you'd better not go to the theater much."

The reader may be surprised at such sensible advice proceeding from Sam; but he had begun to feel the responsibilities of life more keenly than ever before. For the first time, too, he saw how foolish he had been in the past, and felt an eager desire to win a respectable position. He was sanguine and hopeful, and felt that it was not too late to turn over a new leaf.

"All right," said Abner. "I can wait till another evening, but I thought I'd like to go to the theater, seein' as I never went there."

"Never went to the theater!" exclaimed Sam, with a gratifying sense of superiority. "I've been ever so many times in New York."

"I've been to the circus," said Abner. "There was one come round last summer to our place. Is the theater any like the circus?"

"No," said Sam; "but the circus is pretty good. I like to see it myself. You miss a good many things by living in the country."

"Did you ever live in the country?" inquired Abner.

"A good many years ago," answered Sam. "The fact is, I was born there, but I got tired of it and went to New York."

Presently fatigue overpowered Sam, and he announced his intention of returning to the boarding-house, and going to bed.

"I won't go yet," said Abner. "I'll be along pretty soon."

Sam did not lie awake long after once getting into bed. The early hour at which he had risen on the boat, and the miles he had traveled during the day were too much for him, and he sank into a dreamless sleep.

At eleven o'clock Abner Blodgett opened the door and softly entered.

He approached the bed on tiptoe, fearing to wake Sam.

"Poor fool!" he muttered, smiling disagreeably; "he thinks I am a verdant rustic, while I am able to turn him round my little finger. There's nothing about city life that I don't know. I can give him points and discount him as far as that goes, even if he has been living in New York for years. Fast asleep!" he continued, listening to Sam's regular breathing. "No danger of his waking up till morning. I may as well see what money he's got."

He coolly felt in Sam's pocket, and drew out his pocket-book, eagerly examining the contents.

"Only ten dollars and a half!" he muttered, in disappointment. "That hardly pays me for my trouble. However, it's better than nothing. Let me see if there is anything more."

But this appeared to be all the money Sam possessed, and he put it in his pocket, grumbling.

"I guess it'll be safe for me to go to bed, and sleep till near morning," Abner said to himself. "The boy sleeps soundly, and he won't be awake till six or seven."

He proved to be correct. Sam slept like a log, and was not conscious when, at a quarter of six, Abner hurriedly dressed, and left the house with all of poor Sam's available funds.

"It's a pity he payed for his board in advance," thought Abner. "I would have got seven dollars more. It's money thrown away."

Abner hoped to get out of the house without being seen by any one, but he was destined to be disappointed.

As he was slipping out of the front door the landlady herself came downstairs.

"You are going out early, Mr. Blodgett," she remarked, in some surprise.

"Yes, ma'am," said Abner. "I'm used to gettin' up early in the country. I'm goin' to take a walk before breakfast."

"Your young friend thought he wouldn't go out with you?"

"He got pretty tired yesterday. He's sound asleep."

"There's something about that man I don't like," thought Mrs. Campbell. "I don't believe he's so verdant as he pretends to be. He must pay me something on account to-day, or I won't keep him."

"Good-by old woman!" muttered Abner, as he closed the door, and entered the street. "I don't care about seeing you or your house again. I shall get my breakfast somewhere else."

Mr. Blodgett walked rapidly till he reached a shabby-looking brick tenement house not far from Dover Street. This he entered with a pass-key, and going up to a room which he generally occupied, proceeded to change his clothes for others more comfortable to city style. This alone changed his appearance greatly; but not satisfied with this, he took from a bureau drawer a black silky mustache and carefully attached it to his upper lip. Then he looked complacency in the glass, and said, with a smile: "I think my young friend from New York won't recognize me now. If we meet, and he suspects anything, I can easily put him off the scent."

Sam woke up about seven o'clock. He opened his eyes, and looked about him in momentary bewilderment, not immediately remembering where he was. As recollection dawned upon him, he looked for Abner Blodgett, but nothing was to be seen of him. The appearance of the bed, however, showed that he had occupied it.

"He has got up," thought Sam. "I wonder if it is very late."

A church clock began to strike, and he counted the strokes.

"Seven o'clock!" he said. "Well, that isn't very late, but I may as well get up. I've slept like a top all night long. I suppose I was sound asleep when my roommate came to bed. I guess he's gone to take a walk before breakfast."

Sam jumped out of bed and began to dress. As he was drawing on his pants, he thrust his hand mechanically into his pocket to feel for his money. He did so without the faintest suspicion of his loss. When he discovered that his pocket-book was not in its usual place he grew anxious and hurriedly examined his other pockets.

But in vain!

Then he looked on the floor. Possibly it might have slipped out of his pocket and be lying on the carpet. Again his search was vain.

Then, for the first time, suspicion of his roommate entered his mind. Sam was no stranger to the tricks and wiles of a large city, and he saw clearly now how he had been cheated.

"It's that skunk Abner Blodgett!" he exclaimed, indignantly. "He's regularly done me! I'll bet he's no more a countryman than I am. I just wish I had him here. I'd pound him."

Sam was indignant, but not discouraged. He did not give up his money for lost yet. He determined to seek Abner everywhere, and unmask him when found. If he did not recover his money it would not be for want of trying.

As he finished dressing the breakfast-bell rang and he went down to the dining-room.

Though he had lost his money he had not lost his appetite.

When he entered the dining-room he found himself first in the field.

"Good-morning, Mr. Barker," said the landlady. "You are early, but not so early as Mr. Blodgett. He left the house a little before six."

"Did you see him?" asked Sam, eagerly.

"Yes, and spoke with him."

"What did he say?"

"He said he was used to getting up early in the country, and was going out for a walk. Hasn't he returned?"

"No," answered Sam, "and I don't believe he will."

"What makes you say that?" asked the landlady, noticing a significance in his tone.

"I mean that he's gone off with all my money," said Sam, bluntly.

"You don't say so!" ejaculated the landlady. "Why, I thought he was more likely to be taken in himself. Wasn't he from the country?"

"That's what he said; but I don't believe it. I think he was in disguise."

"I thought he was an old friend of yours."

"I never saw him before yesterday. He came up to me in the Parker House yesterday morning."

"What wickedness there is in the world, I do declare! Did he take all your money?"

"Every cent," said Sam. "I'm glad I paid you a week in advance, or I should be badly off."

"I wouldn't have turned you out, Mr. Barker," said the landlady, kindly. "I have a hard time to get along myself, and it makes me sympathize with them that has had ill luck."

Good Mrs. Campbell was not quite grammatical, but she was kind-hearted, and that is better.

"Thank you," said Sam; "but all the same I'm glad you've got the seven dollars instead of Blodgett. I'm going to try to find him, and if I do I'll have the money back, unless he has spent it all."

"Be careful, Mr. Barker. He's stronger than you are, and he might do you some harm."

"I'll risk it," said Sam, who, with all his defects, was not wanting in courage. "I want nothing better than to come across him."