“He said he wanted to play a joke. He––he–––”
“Oh, don’t be an idiot, Phelan,” interposed Gladwin, putting his foot in it at the wrong time and receiving as his reward from the policeman a savage, “Close your face!”
“Oh, playing a joke, was he?” said the thief, smiling. “And did he offer you money. Now, no evasion––you had better tell me.”
“Yes, sir,” gulped Phelan, with murder in one eye for the real Gladwin and craven apology in the other for the impostor.
“And you took it?” sharply.
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, officer! Shame! Shame!” in tones of shocked reproach. “Let me see what he gave you––come now, it’s your only chance.”
Phelan hesitated, gulped some more, and at last produced the bill.
The thief took it from his trembling but unresisting hand, unfurled it, turned it over, held it up close to his eyes and suddenly laughed:
“Well, you certainly are easy––counterfeit!”