“It’s yours.”
“Impossible! I haven’t had so much money of my own for months.”
“Tut! tut!” remonstrated Arlington. “I happen to know a thing or two. That’s the money you paid a fellow by the name of Hanks in order to keep his mouth closed.”
Sparkfair could not help looking startled.
“Hanks!” he exclaimed. “What do you know about him?”
“I know a great deal about him,” laughed Chet, “and I reckon he knows a few things about me. That’s the very money you coughed up to him. He decided to leave it with me before taking his departure from Meadwold.”
“Is he gone?” asked Spark anxiously.
“Gone. Skidooed. Faded away. Vamosed, as they say in the West. You’ll see no more of him this evening, at least.”
“For which relief I must confess I’m truly thankful,” said Spark. “But you’ve got me guessing, Chester. What do you know about any deal between Hanks and myself?”
Arlington was enjoying the mystification of his companion.