“And you would give up the charge?”
“Yes; it cannot lead to my money.”
“Well,” said I, “if that is your decision, I bow to it; but I tell you this, that out of that solitary old newspaper I will get your money. Will you give me my own way?”
“Well, I have heard so much of your success in desperate cases, I don’t care though I do.”
“Agreed,” said I.
And without further parley, I went to Donald, who was at the time in the lobby.
“Donald,” said I, “I want you up to the Office.”
“Me,” replied Donald, with an ounce less blood in his cheek-veins than he had a minute before, “do you think I’m the robber?”
“I don’t say so,” said I; “but I want some information from you which I cannot so well get here.”
And Donald, a little reconciled, and with a little of the blood in the act of returning, took his hat.