“What do you want?”
“I want this young man’s money, his watch and his ring returned to him.”
“What is he to you?”
“I brought him down here to see the sights,—and I am bound to see that he is not swindled. Give him back his money and other things and I will not prosecute you, but if you refuse, I’ll see to it that he not only gets his money but that you go back to the West, where you belong.”
At this plain talk the face of the swindler became a study. At last he turned and faced Hockley.
“We had a fair game,” he growled. “You’re a baby to squeal, nothing but a baby. But if you want the money you can have it.”
He brought a roll of bills out of his pocket, and began to count out a sum equal to that the youth had possessed. With this, and the watch and ring, in his hand he looked again at Professor Strong.
“If I give him this does that close the whole affair?” he asked.
“Yes, so far is I am concerned,” answered Amos Strong.
“Then here you are, baby,” went on the man from Montana, and thrust the money and other things into Hockley’s willing hand. “Don’t ever try to be a sport again. You’re only fit to be let loose in a kindergarten.” And then he walked away, puffing at his black cigar more furiously than ever.