“You’re a couple of thieves! There ain’t any money in there! I——”
“Seeing’s believing, my friend. Just open that up and show us.”
“I won’t! You’ve got all you’re going to get!” He took the suit-case on his knees and hugged his arms over it. “What’s in here is mine!”
“Oh, so there is some in there, eh?” The tall man chuckled. “Well, pass it over. Stand by your bargain and don’t play baby. And get a move on, too. We’ll be in Monroe in about ten minutes and then it’ll be too late.”
Young glared at the other in impotent rage, but the make-believe Central Office man returned his gaze calmly, untroubledly, compellingly. For a long moment Young hesitated. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders, he tugged at the straps, opened the suit-case and drew a cigarette box from under the layers of clothing.
“There,” he growled, and tossed the box into the man’s lap. Inside it were five folded ten-dollar bills. The man smoothed them out, counted them and passed them silently to Joe.
“Fifty and seventeen is sixty-seven,” he said. “That good enough?” he asked.
Joe nodded as he stowed the money safely in a pocket. “That’s near enough,” he said. “I ought to make him pay back what it’s cost me to get it, but I won’t.” He turned to Young. “I’m going to hand nine and a half of this to Mrs. Bennett,” he said. “She needs it more than I do, I guess.”
Young sneered. “What do I care what you do with it? You’re easy, anyway. If I hadn’t been a fool I’d have got clean away.” Then, fearing perhaps that he had admitted too much, he glanced furtively at the man. “We’re quits now, ain’t we?”
“Oh, yes, we’re quits. Or, rather, we’re more than quits, Young. I’m really in your debt for an interesting experience. It’s the first time I ever impersonated a detective and, although I may be taking too much credit, I think I did it rather well, eh?”