“Will you come along and make a charge against them?”
“Certainly. He has my diamond pin.”
The pin was brought to light and handed over to its owner, and then our hero was asked to go along.
Anxious to know what the westerner might want of Crazy Jim, Jerry agreed, and a minute later found the whole crowd bound for the nearest station-house.
Here the westerner gave his name as Colonel Albert Dartwell. He said he was from Denver and had come east on private business.
“I have been sick for two months,” he said. “I am still weak. That is the reason I did not put up a better fight when those two men tackled me.”
Jerry told his story, and the upshot of the matter was that the two footpads were held for another hearing before the judge in the morning.
“My boy, I owe you something for your services to me,” said the westerner, as he and our hero came out on the street. “You did well for a boy.”
“I did the best I could,” replied the young oarsman “But I want to ask you a question. I heard you mention Crazy Jim. What do you want to see him for?”
A look of pain crossed Colonel Dartwell’s face at my words.