e saw the "gambler," as he
had come to call him, going into the smoking compartment of the
coach. Though Tom thought of the man as a gambler, there was no
evidence, as yet, that he was one, and he had made no effort to
approach any of our friends, though he had observed them closely.

How long Tom had been asleep he did not know, but he was suddenly
awakened by feeling his pillow move. At first he thought it was
caused by the swaying of the train, and he was about to go to sleep
again, when there came a movement that he knew could not have been
caused by any unevenness of the roadbed.

Then, like a flash there came to Tom's mind the thought that under
his pillow, in a little leather case he had made for it, was the
map, showing the location of the valley of gold.

He sat up suddenly, and made a lunge for the pillow. He felt a hand
being hurriedly withdrawn. Tom made a grab for it, but the fingers
slipped from his grasp.

"Here! Who are you!" cried Tom, endeavoring to peer through the
darkness.

"It's all right--mistake," murmured a voice.

Tom leaned suddenly forward and parted the curtains of his berth.
There was a dim light burning in the aisle of the car. By the gleam
of it the young inventor caught sight of a man hurrying away, and he
felt sure the fellow who had put his hand under his pillow was the
man with the black mustache. He confirmed this suspicion a moment
later, for the man half turned, as if to look back, and the youth
saw the mustache.

"He--he was after my map!" thought Tom, with a gasp.

He sat bolt upright. What should he do? To raise an alarm now, he
felt, would only bring a denial from the man if he accused him.
There might also be a scene, and the man might get very indignant.
Then, too, Tom and his friends did not want their object made known,
as it would be in the event of Tom raising an outcry and stating
what was under his pillow.

He felt for the map case, opened it and saw, in the gleam of the
light, that it was safe.

"He didn't get it anyhow," murmured our hero. "I guess I won't say
anything until morning, though he did come like a thief in the night
to see if he could steal it."

Tom glanced to where his coat and other clothing hung in the little
berth-hammock, and a hasty search showed that his money and ticket
were safe.

"It was the map he was after all right," mused Tom. "I'll have a
talk with Mr. Damon in the morning about what's best to do. That's
why the fellow has