"He has got a lot of that counterfeit money with him, and by running the company through a number of towns some distance from here can pass it," Jet said to himself. "Now, what shall I do if he makes the trade?"
The proper thing seemed to be to send a letter at once, and, going to his room, he wrote a full account of what he had heard, concluding by saying:
"To-night I shall lay around his house trying to get a sight of the man who is visiting there."
This done he went into the office once more, and there saw the manager, who was highly elated.
"It is all arranged," he said. "The fines will be fixed in some way to-morrow, and we shall start once more. We only lose to-night's stand, and then go on with a backer who has plenty of money. Will you tell the boys of our good luck, while I make arrangements for sending the posters ahead?"
Jet promised to carry the tidings, and stopped only long enough to add the following postscript to his letter:
"The trade has been made, and the constable will leave here to-morrow with the company. I shall loaf near his house this evening, and walk to the next town to send you a telegram if I learn anything."
This letter he mailed in time for the night train, and then visited the jail, delivering news which the prisoners were not particularly glad to hear, since it gave them no immediate prospect for money.
"We have made up our minds to tire the squire out," one of them said, "and I don't take favorably to the idea of working to pay the fines when there's no real need of it."