Tom was strongly convinced, further, that a job was being "put up" on him, and he was mightily relieved when thoroughly rid of them.
That same evening one of his employers sent for him, and told him that he had received reliable information that he, Thomas Gordon, was working off counterfeit money on the road.
The boy denied it, of course, but he did not choose to tell all he knew, for he saw that his own situation was a dangerous one; but he demanded that the proof should be produced.
There was an officer present, who thereupon searched the lad for the "queer," but he acknowledged there wasn't a penny on him which was not sound.
Tom was kept at the office while another officer went to his lodging-house and ransacked his room. The result was nil. This rather stumped the detective, who was acting on the charge of some one else, and he started off, remarking that the business wasn't done yet, and the best thing the boy could do was to confess.
"I must first have something to confess," replied Tom, who was excusable for some honest indignation.
"Where is the man who said I was in that business?"
"You'll meet him in the court-room," was the significant reply of the detective.
"That's just where I'd like to meet him, and you too, but you're afraid to try it."
"Come, come, young man, you'd better keep a civil tongue in your head, or I'll jug you as it is. I've enough against you."