Shoup proudly drew from his pocket something which he held toward Lenning in the palm of his hand. It was a roll of bills with a “yellowback” on the outside.
“Made a raise,” he chuckled. “Transferred this from the old lady’s hand bag to my pocket. Ain’t I the cute boy, all right?”
CHAPTER III.
A DRUGGED CONSCIENCE.
With revulsion plainly marked in his face, Jode Lenning leaped back from the outstretched hand and the roll of bills as he would from a coiled rattlesnake.
“Squeamish, eh?” jeered Shoup, his eyes two points of light and boring into Lenning’s brain. “You’ve got a lot of cause, after the way you’ve acted, to get on your high horse with me.”
“You’re a plain thief!” gasped Lenning.
“Very plain,” sneered the other; “you’re worse, Lenning, only it’s not so plain.”
Lenning jumped at Shoup with clenched fists.
“What do you mean by that sort of talk?” he demanded chokingly.