Ned hesitated. If he gave his real name it might lead to trouble over the stock, in case the proprietor carried out the threat to have him arrested. He was not used to telling untruths and he was afraid if he gave a false name he would soon betray himself. Still it seemed the best thing to do and would harm no one save himself.
“My name’s George Anderson,” he said boldly. “Where I came from is none of your affair.”
“Afraid to tell, eh? Well, the judge will soon have it out of you.”
It was quite cold now, and Ned, standing half dressed as he was in the room, began to shiver. He put on his clothes.
“Guess that’s a wise thing to do,” the proprietor of the lodging house remarked. “You’ll get a ride in the hurry-up wagon soon.”
The words struck a chill of terror to Ned’s heart. Must he spend the rest of the night in a cell? The man’s manner showed no relenting. He either believed Ned had robbed him or was insisting on the charge for some reason of his own.
“Are you in earnest about this?” asked Ned, as he put on his hat and overcoat.
“You can make up your mind to that,” was the man’s answer. “It’ll be the jail for yours, in a little while, if you don’t give me back my money. It isn’t too late. I can fix it with the cop if you’ll give up. Why look here, kid, they’ll search you and find it on you. You haven’t had time to hide it, and, besides, there’s no place in this room. You must have it on you. Give it up and save trouble.”
“I haven’t your money,” Ned said boldly. “Those bills you took from under the pillow were mine. You can search me now if you want to. That is all the money I have except a little change in my overcoat pocket,” and he showed the man.
“That don’t go with me. I’m sure you robbed me. I’ll not search you or you’d say I was up to some game, and nobody ever said but what Jim Cassidy was honest, though he does keep a cheap lodging house. No, sir, the cop’ll search you.”