“Have you got one of them?” asked Pembroke, coming up.
“Yes—Hibbard,” said Clancy.
“Has he got a canvas bag?”
“No.”
“Then the other scoundrel has the money. I couldn’t find it in the car. Dash it! We’ll have to call in the police—and maybe it’s too late. We’ll take Hibbard to the house, where we can use the telephone. Let him up, old chap.”
Clancy drew away from Hibbard, while Pembroke caught his arm and leveled the “automatic.”
“You’re a nice sort of a chap, aren’t you?” sneered Pembroke. “Robbing the man for whom you used to work! Get up!”
Hibbard got sulkily erect.