Kelly's jaw sagged helplessly.
“Good God!” he ejaculated heavily. “Dave, I———”
“Don't let's talk, John—now,” Dave Henderson interrupted. “There isn't time. It won't do for me to stay in here too long. 'You've got my money ready, haven't you?”
Kelly nodded—still a little helplessly.
“Yes,” he said; “it's ready. I've been looking for you all afternoon. I knew you were coming out today.” He went over to a safe in the corner, opened it, took out a long envelope, and handed the envelope to Dave Henderson. “It's all there, Dave—and five years' interest, compounded. A little over four thousand dollars—four thousand and fifteen, as near as I could figure it. It's all in five-hundreds and hundreds, except the fifteen; I didn't think you'd want to pack a big wad.”
“Good old Square John!” said Dave Henderson softly. He opened the envelope, took out the fifteen dollars, shoved the large bills into his pocket, tucked a five-dollar bill into another pocket, and held out the remaining ten to Kelly. “Go out there and get me ten dollars from the cash register, John, will you?” he said. “Let them see you doing it. Get the idea? I'd like them to know you came across, and that I've got something to spend.”
Kelly's eyes puckered in an anxious way, as they scrutinized Dave Henderson's face; but the anxiety, it was obvious enough, was all for Dave Henderson.
“You mean there's some one out there now?” he asked, as he moved toward the door.
“Yes,” said Dave Henderson, with a grim little smile. “See if you know that fellow with the brown peaked cap up at the front end of the bar.”
Kelly was gone a matter of two or three minutes. He came back and returned the ten dollars to Dave Henderson.