Quick as was his action, he could not outmaneuver Sam, who promptly threw himself upon Rutley’s back, and locked his arms about him, pinioning him as in a vice. And while in that position the detective slipped on the handcuffs.
On releasing him, Sam turned with a broad grin of satisfaction to his aunt—“How is that for the Texas brand, eh, Auntie?”
He got for his answer a smile, and an exclamation that pleased him immensely. “Splendid, Sam.”
“The neatest bit of work done since his partner tried to find a soft spot on Carbit strait pavement,” added Smith, with a look of admiration.
In the meantime Mr. Harris had been examining the packages of money, turning them over and over, looking first at one and then at another. Of a sudden his face lit up with a smile, as he exclaimed: “Why, this is mine; the identical package that he obtained from the bank on my indorsement. I can swear to it. But this?” And he looked meaningly at Virginia.
“It looks like the package of notes I gave the Italian for Dorothy’s ransom,” she replied.
“He never sold me after all,” muttered Jack, who became painfully astonished on hearing Mr. Harris declare that Rutley had obtained one of the packages of money from the bank on his indorsement. And as the plan by which he was tricked into betrayal of his accomplice became evident, his chagrin deepened to grief. He turned to Rutley and said, brokenly: “Phil, I take it all back,” and then he muttered absently as he realized the futility of regret. “But it is too late—I have been tricked into a confession.”
“The jig is up,” replied Rutley. “I shall take my medicine like a man.”
“That money must remain in the custody of the police until the court decides for the owner,” said the detective.
“Certainly,” affirmed Mr. Harris, who handed him the two packages.