Corrigan laughed. The young machinist did not yet know that this man was at heart a thorough villain.
"Wait and see," he remarked, coolly. "Put your back to the door, Andy, and don't let him escape."
Corrigan was a heavily built and powerful man, and in his present condition Jack knew that he was no match for such an opponent.
"What do you want?" asked the young machinist.
"Want to see what you have with you. Come, show up."
Jack's head still ached from the rough treatment it had received. He did not wish to court another such blow, and so did as demanded.
A knife, ten cents, the five-dollar bill farmer Farrell had given him, and a copy of his agreement with Mr. Benton were all the articles of value that he carried.
"Here's something for you, Andy," observed Corrigan, tossing over the ten-cent piece. "The price of a drink."
Corrigan quietly slipped the five-dollar bill into his own clothes. Then opening the agreement, he held it near the lantern and read it carefully. It seemed to interest him greatly, and muttering something to himself, he shoved it into the inside pocket of his coat.
"Do you intend to rob me outright?" exclaimed Jack, whose blood boiled at such treatment.