"I'm not!" persisted the accused, though his voice seemed less assertive than before, and held in its tone a quality of fear. "You've no right to say so. I picked up that scrap of paper on the side of the road the other day."
"Yes, an' you also picked up the traitor's price along with it," sneered Jade Beddow. "I'll just save this for future use," he added, folding the paper and thrusting it in his pocket.
"What use?" asked Steve nervously.
"As evidence when you come to be tried for a spy," answered Jade calmly. "You haven't forgot this soon the penalty of betrayin' our band, have you?" he continued in a sterner voice, fixing his cold, piercing eyes full upon his companion.
"I never done it," muttered Steve, letting his eyes drop before the close scrutiny of Jade's gaze. "You cain't prove it."
A sudden thought came to the accuser as he stood looking at the culprit, who squirmed about uneasily under the penetrating eyes, and the tones that Jade next employed suggested rather an argument than a threat. His voice dropped into almost a persuasive key.
"Now look here, Steve!" he said quietly, "I've caught you dead to rights, an' you cain't squirm our of it, so you needn't try. You sold yourself for this money, don't deny it. You haven't saved up fifty cents in the last ten years, you know it, yet here you sit with a handful of crisp new bank-notes, tellin' me you earned 'em honestly. Ha! ha! that's a good one! The devil himself would laugh at a joke like that."
Jade Beddow folded his arms and looked down on the poor wretch at his feet, who gave no evidence of the humor of the situation.
"Now see here, Steve! you're in a tight fix, sure an' certain, but if you'll do just as I tell you, I'll promise to get you out."
"How?" asked Steve hoarsely, a growing sign of weakness manifest.