"Saw him about half an hour ago. He came to see me—came to see Sammy Simpson—climbed the stairs to my abode. Wanted the papers—said I must have 'em. Went wild with rage when I let slip you had 'em. So did the other gent."
"Who? Mr. Woodward?"
"That's the identical name. Yes, sir—the correct handle. And they wanted the papers. Offered a hundred dollars for 'em. Think of it. Here's the ten dollars—give 'em back."
Had Sammy Simpson been sober he would not have made such a simple proposition.
"No, sir," I replied decidedly. "A bargain's a bargain. I've got the papers, and I intend to keep them."
"No, you don't."
"What's that?" broke in the sergeant of police.
"I want those papers."
"Do you know who I am?"
"No, and don't care."