“Not a regular thief,” the young man corrected hastily. “He’s a friend of mine––and I want to be waiting in your uniform when he comes. I want to nab him. The joke will be on him, then, you know.”
“All very simple, you see,” added Barnes.
“Simple as––no, I don’t see,” snarled Phelan. “The two of yez is bugs.”
“But you will see,” went on Gladwin, “if you’ll let me explain. In order to be a policeman I’ve got to have a uniform, haven’t I?”
“Of course he has,” urged Barnes.
“And yez are offering me five hundred dollars for a joke?”
Phelan dropped his arms limply at his side and permitted his eyes to bulge ad lib.
“That’s it,” cried Gladwin. “I assure you it is nothing serious or criminal. I just want your uniform long enough to catch my friend and I’ll give you five hundred dollars for lending it to me.”
“It’s too big a risk,” panted Phelan, producing an elaborate bandana and mopping his brow. “I won’t do it.”