"I asked if that was you at my berth just now," repeated Blake. "I'm sure I felt some one."
"So did I. I thought it was you," said Joe. "Were you up?"
"Not a bit of it! Say, maybe we'd better look around a bit. The films are under my berth."
Blake slipped on a bathrobe over his pajamas, and got out in the aisle. The narrow, curtained passage contained no one. Joe thrust his head out between his curtains, to watch Blake as he felt under the berth.
"Joe, they're gone!" cried the young operator, as he faced about. "The cases containing the relief train and bridge films are gone!"
"Are you sure?"
"Positive. I left them right between my two valises, and they're not there now."
"Maybe the porter took them by mistake," suggested Joe.
"I'll ring and find out," declared Blake, as he pushed the button in his berth.
A sleepy colored man shuffled out from the end of the car.
"'Ju ring, sah?" he yawned.
"Yes," exclaimed Blake. "Did you take anything from under my berth?"
