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"'s going on?" asked Mr. Ringold, who had been awakened in his berth, near the two boys, by hearing the talk. "Has any thing happened?"

"There certainly has," replied Blake, taking care not to speak too loudly, for fear of awakening the other passengers. "Our undeveloped films have been stolen—the ones showing the relief train, and the bridge work."

"Stolen!" exclaimed the manager, thrusting his head out from between the curtains.

"Well, they're gone, and that's the only way I can account for it," went on Blake, as he told the story, the colored porter standing by, and listening with open mouth.

"We haven't made any stops since you put the films under your berth; have we?" asked Mr. Ringold.

"No, sah, dish yean train ain't done made no stops since dark," answered the porter.

"Then the thief must be aboard still!" cried