"I called," said Mr. Bingle, getting behind the foot-board of the bed.
"Where is he? Did you--"

"I heard him moving about the kitchen about six or half-past. I peeked
out of my door, and there he was, all dressed, putting the coffee pot
on the stove. I says to him: 'What are you doing there?' and he says:
'I'm getting breakfast, you lazy lummix,' and I says: 'Well, get it,
you old bear, 'cause I won't, you can bet on that,'--and went back to
bed. Oh, goodness--goodness! I wouldn't ha' said that to him if I'd
knowed he--"

"Don't blubber, Melissa," cried Mrs. Bingle. "Ask the elevator boy
what time it was when--"

"Hand me my trousers, Mary," shivered Mr. Bingle, "or send Melissa out
of the room. I can't--"

"He made himself some coffee and--"

"Call the elevator boy, as I tell you--No, wait! Dress yourself first,
you silly thing," commanded Mrs. Bingle, and Melissa fled.

The old man was gone, there could be no doubt about that.
Investigations proved that he had left the building at precisely
sixteen minutes of seven, the janitor declaring that he had looked at
his watch the instant the old man appeared on the sidewalk where he
was shovelling away the snow. He admitted that nothing short of a
miracle could have caused him to go to the trouble of getting out his
watch on a morning as cold as this one happened to be, and so he
regarded old Mr. Hooper's exit as a most astonishing occurrence.