"Very kind, whoever he was," said Sam. "Are the contents all right?"

Instead of answering Tom placed the suit case on a chair and started
to unlock it.

"Hello, it's unlocked!" he murmured. "I thought I had it locked."

He shoved back the clasps and threw the case open. The contents were
much jumbled, but he had expected this from the fact that the bag had
been jounced out of the carriage.

"I guess the stuff is all here," he said slowly, turning over the
clothing and other things. "Somehow, I thought I had more in the case,
though," he added presently.

"Don't you know what you had?"

"Well--er--I packed it in a hurry, you know. I wanted to go fishing,
and so I got through as soon as I could. Oh, I guess it's all right."

Tom was too lively a youth to pay much attention to his personal
belongings. Often he hardly knew what suit of clothing he had on or
what sort of a necktie. The only times he really fixed up was when
Nellie Laning was near. Why he did that only himself (and possibly
Nellie) knew.

Sunday passed quietly. Some of the boys attended one or another of the
churches in Ashton, and the Rovers went with them. Dudd Flockley and
his cronies took a walk up the river, and reaching a warm, sunny spot,
threw themselves down to smoke cigarettes and talk.