“Sir?” asked Joe.
“May I ask what is the value of the something the other chap has of yours? It’s interesting sometimes to know for what amount a person will risk his life. Personally I wouldn’t do it for less than two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Not now, that is. There was a time, when I was considerably younger, when I dare say I’d have done it for considerably less; say for five thousand—or nothing at all. In your case now——”
“It’s only about seventy-five dollars,” replied Joe. “He—he stole it.”
The man nodded. “Naturally. Seventy-five dollars, though, seems an inadequate reward for a broken neck. Any kind of a respectable funeral would cost all of that. I don’t see that you stood to win much.”
“I’m afraid I didn’t stop to think of all that, sir. He jumped on the train and so I—I jumped on, too!”
“I see. And now?”
Joe hesitated. “I suppose I’ll have to get him arrested in Toledo if he won’t give it up without.”
“Why didn’t you call a policeman at that last place?”
“I didn’t see one. Besides, I thought he’d give the money back without any fuss when he saw that I had caught him.”
“But he wouldn’t?”