"About twenty dollars. The main thing was that railroad ticket order. If that is gone, how am I to get to Norfolk?" "Was your name mentioned on the paper?" "Yes, sir." "Where was it to be presented? any particular depot?" "Yes, the New York and New England railroad depot." "Then the best thing to do is to ring the railroad folks up and have the bearer of the order detained, if the slip is presented," went on the police officer, and stepping to the telephone he rang up central and had the necessary connection made. "Is this the ticket office of the New York and New England railroad depot?" he questioned. "Yes," came the reply over the wire. "A navy-yard order for a ticket from here to Norfolk, or Fortress Monroe, has been stolen. It is made out in the name of Walter Russell. If it is presented, hold the party having it and communicate with police headquarters." "Is the name Walter Russell?" was the excited query, and Walter's heart began to sink as he seemed to feel what was coming. "Yes." "That order has already been filled. It was presented about ten o'clock last night." "I've missed it!" groaned the youth, and dropped into a chair. "What will the navy-yard people say to this when they hear of it?" "I don't see how they can blame you," returned the sergeant, kindly, "seeing as you were knocked senseless by the thief. Deck Mumpers has got the best of it so far." He called through the telephone for a description of the party having the order, and soon learned it must have been Mumpers beyond a doubt. "Can't you telegraph to Norfolk to have him arrested when he arrives?" asked Walter suddenly. "You don't think he'll go all the way to Norfolk, do you?" smiled the police officer. Then he turned again to the telephone. "What kind of a ticket did that party get on the order?" he asked. "First-class, with sleepers." "He got a first-class ticket. Ten to one he'll not use it at all, but sell the pasteboard at some cut-rate ticket office right here in Boston and then buy another ticket for somewhere else." "I see!" cried Walter. "But if the ticket was sold here, could we trace it?" "It is not likely, for many first-class tickets are alike. We might trace the sleeping-car checks, but I doubt if Mumpers will try to do anything with those." "But he may use the ticket," ventured Walter, hardly knowing what else to say. "Oh, possibly. I'll have the men at the various stations keep an eye open for the rascal," concluded the sergeant, and after a few more words Walter left the station. It must be confessed that the youth was considerably out of sorts. "I start off to recover some stolen property and end by losing more," he groaned. "I'm not fit to join the navy, or do anything." And he gave a mountainous sigh.