“Well, this is my street,” announced Charley, as he paused on a corner. “Come on over some night and see a fellow.” “I will, only I can’t until after the holidays. We’re going to keep open evenings beginning next week.” “That’s tough. You ought to be a telephone boy, and get done at three o’clock. I went to a moving picture show this afternoon.” “I wish I could go. But let me know if you hear of a chance for me, Charley.” “I will, Tom. Hope you keep your job.” “I don’t know as I want to, since I’ve heard about yours,” replied Tom with a laugh. “Good-night.” Tom hurried on to his home. As he reached the steps, and felt for the key of the door, he gave a sudden start. The envelope containing the ten dollars which Dr. Spidderkins had given him, and which he had put in his pocket, was gone! CHAPTER VI OUT OF WORK Thinking he might not have looked in the right pocket, Tom made a hasty search through all the others. “No use,” he said dolefully, “it’s gone! I must have dropped it after I left the house. What’s to be done?” The situation was serious for the lad. He wished he had been more careful, but he had been so engaged in thinking of the queer actions of Mr. and Mrs. Sandow, and in talking to Charley Grove, that he had given little thought to the money. “Mr. Townsend will think I have stolen it, when I go to him in the morning, and say I’ve lost it,” murmured Tom. “I wish I had been more particular. Maybe there was a hole in my pocket.” He looked, but there was none, for Mrs. Baldwin attended carefully to her son’s clothes. “This is certainly a pickle!” exclaimed the boy to himself softly. “I wonder what I’d better do? Maybe if I go back the way I came I’ll find the envelope lying in the street. It was a good-sized, white one, and I can easily see it.” “But maybe I dropped it in the car,” he added. “No, I don’t believe I could have done that, or some of the passengers or the conductor would have seen it on the floor, and told me about it. I must have lost it either before I got on the car, or afterward. I’ll walk back to where I met Charley, and see if it’s there.” It was nearly eleven o’clock now, and as Tom looked up at the silent little house, where his mother and aunt were doubtless sleeping, he wondered if he had better go in and tell his parent about the loss, and inform her that he was going to look for the money. “No, I’ll not do that,” he decided. “She’ll only worry about it, and she has troubles enough. I’ll hurry as much as I can, and get back as soon as possible. Still, if I’m not in by midnight she may worry too. But then I told her I was likely to be late any night now, for I might have to deliver books in the suburbs. I guess she won’t worry if I don’t go in right away.”