To Ned's relief nothing happened. Either the light was too far away or the gas had all been removed by the hose. But this relief was quickly succeeded by another alarm. There had been no explosion, but their financial means were now at the mercy of two thieves, and he and his churn, bound and helpless, were powerless to protect either themselves or their funds. There was nothing to be done but to grin and bear it. For Ned's new leather money belt, containing six hundred dollars in gold was stretched out conspicuously and at full length on top of one of the two rows of glass bulbs in the case.
"Lyin', as I thought," exclaimed Jellup. "Gimme' the light, Domingo." And the chuckle that followed almost instantly was indication enough that he had discovered the boys' small fortune.
"Dangerous, eh!" he laughed. "Now, we'll see if the city gits its bond."
Then he paused as if a thought had entered his head.
"But, jest to keep the record clean, I reckon ye'd better give it to me yerself, young 'un. Jack Jellup ain't no burglar. Loosen him up, Domingo. And fur fear ye might need persuadin' jest take a peek at this," and he drew his revolver.
When Ned had been liberated, Jellup pointed to the money belt.
"Jest be good enough to hand me whatever's in that," he exclaimed, "without no hesitation. Then we'll have a little talk about what else is agoin' to happen."
It was hard to surrender so easily but the risk of attacking two armed men single-handed was great. Ned walked slowly toward the crate.
"Get busy," ordered Jellup; "we've got other business yit to talk of."
Ned had a sudden impulse. The thing flashed on him and taking hold of the belt in the middle he lifted it until the two ends were just over an open-mouthed bulb of hydrogen, and then as if by accident dropped the belt into the jar. The clear, watery liquid splashed and the belt disappeared.