It was not a clear and definite sort of message, in fact it was rather confused--in the same shape as a dream. John seemed to be riding a big cow pony down a steep incline, after a big buffalo on whose back sat a dark, smooth-shaven man. The same man, John thought in his dream, he had seen in the elevator that evening. And while John was riding for dear life after the buffalo, he thought he saw the strange man turn back and go to where the three boys had left their coats on the grassy bank of Lake Rudmore. John fancied he gave up his pursuit of the buffalo to leap off and run to where the thief was stealing his own and his comrades' possessions. The shock of leaping from the back of a swiftly running pony, and rolling head over heals as a result, awoke John, or, rather, the peculiar action of his dream did. He sat up in bed with a jump, just in time to see the thief putting the money into his pocket, and, with the three wallets, steal out into the corridor. It must have been the continuance of the dream that made John act so quickly. He leaped out of bed, half asleep as he was, and, with a yell that sounded enough like an Indian warwhoop to startle his two companions, he made a dash for the man. Out of the room and down the dimly lighted hall dashed the Indian student. Before him fled the thief. "Stop!" yelled John. "What's the matter?" cried Jack, sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Is the place on fire?" "What's the matter? Have we missed the train?" Nat demanded to know. "Thieves!" was all John replied. By this time several guests of the hotel had awakened and there were anxious inquiries as to what was going on. The thief sped down the long corridor, with John, clad only in his nightdress, after him. The fellow tossed the wallets down, but the flat way in which they fell told John the intruder had taken their most valuable contents from them. Well for the Indian that he was a fleet runner. Few there were who could have distanced him, and certainly the rascal who was out of training in athletic lines could not. A few more strides, and John grabbed the man by the coat. "Now I've got you!" the Indian shouted. A moment later the two went down in a heap, the man's legs having slipped from under him. But, even in the fall, John did not let go his hold. The man kept one hand in his pocket. In the flickering gaslight the Indian saw this, and rightly guessed that there the money was. Quick as a flash John slipped his hand in and found the man was grasping something tightly. "Let go!" the fellow growled. "Not much!" exclaimed John. "I'm after our money!" "I'll--I'll--cut you!" panted the thief. "Police! Murder! Fire!" yelled a woman outside of whose door the desperate struggle was now going on.