"I recognize nothing of the kind," was the return, "but I don't want you to be fool enough to destroy that money—my hard earnings."
"That is precisely the little joker I hold," said Dick.
"Well, what do you want to do?"
"I want you to return my revolvers to me, in good order—"
"Say, do you take us for fools altogether? We have got the advantage, now, and, we mean to keep it. Forward, men, and at him!"
"Hold!" cried Dick yet once again. "You evidently forget the fate of this money if you advance another step. And more than that, if you keep me here one hour the pile will be ten thousand dollars less."
It was a peculiar situation.
[CHAPTER XII.]
CAUGHT IN THE TOILS.