"Get it again, if you can!" he laughed. "My word is as good as yours, now; and while you have the negative, you have not got the prints I took from it. You are in my power now, Mr. Horace, and you had best be civil, or there will be trouble." And with that he turned and hurried off, leaving Horace Elgert alone, white with passion and fear.
"I need not fear him," he muttered. "It only means paying enough, and I shall get them. This can go, the water will soon wash the film off."
He skimmed the negative away, but it slipped from his fingers and fell into shallow water. He did not trouble; in less than an hour it would be washed clean away. Then Horace Elgert produced a book from his pocket, and this he, having tied a stone to it, also threw into the river; then, finally, he took that dreadful banknote from his pocket, and, striking a match, he set it alight and watched it burn to ashes. Then, hands in pockets, he sauntered off, and Tinkle and Green crept from their refuge.
"We must get back," said Green. "We shall be late."
"Get back be bothered!" rejoined Tinkle eagerly. "We are going to fish again. Be careful. Here, hold open your book—I see one in your pocket!"
Tinkle carefully picked up all the grey, fluffy ash of that burnt banknote, and placed it between the leaves.
"My father says that banknotes have a queer ash, and we may want to show this. Now let us see if we can get those things out of the river. That negative seemed to fall close in."
"I see it!" cried Green, pointing into the water.
"Look, there it is, out on that patch of white sand—see, there!"