"Very well, hand over the pin."
The diamond scarf pin was transferred to the broker's hand.
"Here is your pocket-book and ten dollars. I don't wish to see you go away without a cent."
"Keep the money; you might as well rob me of all of it," exclaimed Hardwick. He reached for his hat and coat. "You will rue this day, Horace Sumner; mark my word for it. And you, you young tramp!"—Hardwick turned to Hal—"I will get square, and don't you forget it."
He went out, slamming the door behind him. Hal watched him from the window, and saw him turn down Broad Street.
Mr. Sumner gave a long sigh.
"I am glad I am rid of that man," he said.
"So am I," responded Hal. "He is a worse villain than you think, Mr. Sumner."
The elderly broker smiled faintly.
"You still think him connected with the disappearance of the tin box, I suppose."