Waltham snorted.
“I’m glad you found that out,” he said. “Do you know who this Bronson is?”
“No.”
“He’s Tiger Bronson. Big political man. Has plenty of influence. He could reach far enough to get you in wrong. Lucky for you he was out of town. Why didn’t you raid the mayor’s house, too?”
The sarcasm was biting.
“You’re right, Waltham,” admitted Jim. “It must have been a crazy notion on my part. I had the idea we were working on the wrong end of this business.
“Guysel was sure that the fellow who went to Bronson’s house had been at Birch’s. It might mean that there was some phony stuff at Bronson’s. Guysel kept watch and tipped me off that the house was empty. So we went through it.”
“If there had been anything there,” replied Waltham, “it would probably have been hidden where you couldn’t find it.”
“Not in that place,” replied Jim. “We even found the safe open! What do you think of that? About five thousand dollars in real cash there. I thought we had something when I saw it.
“I guess if the bills had been counterfeit, Bronson would have had the safe locked. No, sir. It was real cash. A lot of it in ten-dollar bills.”