“Why, they don’t seem to be any nearer to getting the $40,000 back than they were when we left,” said Phil, ignoring Dick’s threat. “Mr. Denby says that ‘Rocks’ Gurney left town day before yesterday, and nobody seems to know where he’s disappeared to.”
“Left town, eh?” said Tom, thoughtfully. “I wonder where he’s bound for.”
“Probably thought it would be safer to light out before somebody arrested him on suspicion,” suggested Dick.
“He’ll get his some day, though,” remarked Steve. “There are plenty of bad men in this part of the country that get away with murder for a while, but they generally get theirs in the end.”
“It doesn’t always work that way, though,” said Dick, with mock seriousness. “Look at the fierce jokes that Tom has gotten away with, and he seems to be as far from punishment as ever.”
“Oh, it’s punishment enough to have to tell good jokes to an unappreciative gink like you,” retorted Tom. “You wouldn’t know a good joke if it came up and shook hands with you.”
“Maybe not,” agreed Dick, “I hear so few good ones, that I can’t say I’m an expert at recognizing them.”
“How about that one I told you the other day, about the Irishman that fell off the scaffold?” asked Tom, in an injured tone. “Didn’t you even like that one?”
“Well, it wasn’t so bad,” conceded Dick. “It was a little better than most of them, anyway.”
“Tell it again, and I’ll be umpire,” laughed Steve. “I’m willing to take a chance on anything once.”