"In that case you must abide by the consequences, you and the men who wrote the letters. We shall publish all we know about them, what you yourself claimed for them, and leave the next grand jury to make the proper investigations."
"Humph!"
"Naturally we should try to see to it that you did not escape," she added.
"What will you pay for them?" he demanded.
"Five hundred dollars for every scrap of paper in this desk, and immunity for you—for turning state's evidence you know!"
"They are worth more than that," he said, taking no notice of the insult.
They bargained back and forth. Prim was really in a hurry to close the trade. He wished to be able to handle Coleman when he came in. It was five minutes to ten o'clock when they finally closed the deal.
"But I can't take a check," he objected suddenly.
"I thought as much. I've brought the money. A thousand dollars is too much. This bag isn't half full!" she exclaimed, shaking it down, drawing up the strings, and looking at it. Then she counted out the bills on the desk, every drawer of which was now empty.
Some one came up the stairs and walked briskly forward in the hall outside.