“I can!” exclaimed a clear, manly voice.
Millicent raised her eyes, and for the first time saw Jim Hockson.
She gave him a look in which astonishment, gratitude and fear strove for the mastery, and he gave her a straight-forward, honest, respectful look in return.
The two detectives dropped their lower jaws alarmingly, and raised their eyebrows to their hat-rims.
“The bank at San Francisco has an agent here,” said Jim. “Colonel, won’t you fetch him?”
The colonel took a lively double-quick, and soon returned with a business-looking man.
“Mr. Green,” said Jim, “please tell me how much I have in your bank?”
The clerk looked over a small book he extracted from his pocket, and replied, briefly:
“Over two thousand ounces.”
“Please give these gentlemen a check, made whatever way they like it, for the equivalent of thirty thousand dollars. I’ll sign it,” said Jim.