“How can I?”
“Why, that advertisement they found in your pocket says so, don’t it? See here, Andy,” and Talbot looked so mean and greedy that our hero could hardly keep from shuddering with disgust, “tell me about that advertisement—all about it, I want to be a good friend to you. I am a shrewd business man, and you’re only a boy. They’ll chisel you out of it, if you don’t have some older person to stand by you. I’ll stand by you, Andy.”
“Chisel me out of what?” inquired Andy, intent on drawing out his specious counsellor to the limit.
“What’s your due. They’re after the pocketbook that held the two hundred dollars. Don’t you see they’re breaking their necks to get it back? Why? aha!”
“That’s so,” murmured Andy, as if it were all news to him.
“So, if you know what became of that pocketbook——”
“Yes,” nodded Andy.
“And where it is——”
“I do,” declared Andy.
“Capital!” cried Talbot, getting excited. “Then we’ve got them. Ha! Ha! They can’t squirm away from us. Where’s the pocketbook, Andy? You just hand this business right over to me. I’ll do the negotiating.”