"He didn't say that he'd be glad to have me make one of his party, did he? Well, I'm going, all the same. Say, Joey, if our squad gobbles both them bugglars, how much'll that be for each of us?"
"Twelve hundred and fifty dollars," was the reply.
"Well, now, sposen our squad catches one of 'em, and some other squad away off somewheres else catches t'other one—how much will that be for each feller?"
"A little over three hundred dollars."
"Is that all?" said Dan. And, to have heard him speak, you would have thought that he was in the habit of carrying a good deal more money than that loose in his pockets every day. "And you've got more'n three thousand dollars a coming to you! Dog-gone such luck as I do have, any way!"
It was probable that Dan had more to say on this point. He usually had a good deal to say whenever he fell to talking about his bad luck; but just then Mr. Warren beckoned to Joe, who promptly stepped forward to join his squad, Dan keeping close to his heels.
"I wish I could think up some plan to get even with old man Warren for the way he's acting," thought Dan, who was indignant because the gentleman did not show him a little more respect. "I don't reckon he wants me along, but I don't care whether he does or not. I'm here to stay, no odds if there is five men instead of four in the party, and if we catch them bugglars I'll make 'em hand over my share. That'll be—lemme see."
After an infinite deal of trouble and much hard thinking, Dan arrived at the conclusion that his share of the reward, if any were earned by that squad, would be just one-fifth of five thousand dollars.
But Joe would come in for a share, also, and then he would have four thousand dollars, while Dan would have but one. Did anybody ever hear of such luck? Joe was ahead, and Dan didn't see any way to catch up with him.