Rex noticed that Stout was looking around at him.  He shut the door quickly and hurried off.  He breathed a great sigh of relief when he reached the open air.

He turned down a side street to collect his thoughts before deciding what to do.  He wandered till he reached the middle of the block, then, finding his valise heavy, he set it down on the sidewalk to rest a minute.

It was after midnight and very quiet.  Suddenly he felt something hit him in the face, and then for a minute or two all was a blank to him.

CHAPTER XIX

 A memorable night

When Rex came to his senses again he found himself leaning against a brown stone stoop.  His head felt very queer.

“I wonder if it can be the effect of that glass of punch I drank?” he asked himself.

Then he glanced down at the sidewalk and saw that his valise—­ a handsome new one—­ was missing.  A terrible fear came to him.

He put his hand to the breast pocket of his coat.  Yes, it was true.  He had been assaulted and robbed in the street.

His money, his return ticket to Philadelphia, were gone, to say nothing of his satchel and the clothes that were in it.  He looked helplessly up and down the street.

All was quiet as it had been before.  A man was coming toward him on the other side of the way.  But that individual could have had nothing to do with robbing him.

No, the thief had made his escape long since, and it was hopeless to try to overtake him.

Rex had one thing with which to console himself.  His watch—­ a silver one Syd had recently given him—­ had not been taken.  He thrust his hands into his trousers pockets.

Yes, there was some loose change there.  He took it out and anxiously counted it under a lamp.  There were seventy-three cents all told.

And now the question arose, What was he to do?  For one instant the expedient of returning to the hotel and throwing himself on the good will of those he had left there suggested itself to him.  But only for an instant.

The recollection of the scene he had quitted came back with all its vividness.  No, he would not go back there.

He deserved all that had befallen him.  He had been a fool ever to take up with Harrington.  The fellow had only encouraged him because it flattered his vanity to be looked up to the way Rex had looked up to the collegian.

But he had no time now for self reproaches.  He must decide what he should do.

He looked at his watch.  It was ten minutes to one.  He did not remember to have been up so late in his life.  But he did not feel sleepy.  He was far too excited for that.

“If I could only get back to Philadelphia,” was his thought.

He knew that the single fare was two dollars and a half.  What if he bought a ticket to a place as far as his seventy-three cents would carry him?  He would be that much nearer home at any rate.