“No, thanks; I’ve got damages enough, as the fellow said who’d been busted up in a railroad accident and was asked if he intended to sue,” laughingly rejoined Tubby; “but”—and he dodged to a safe distance—“that was a mighty pretty girl.”
As he spoke, they were passing by the railroad station. A train had just pulled out of it, depositing two passengers on the platform. But none of the boys noticed them at the moment. Instead, their attention was attracted by the strange action of Merritt, who suddenly darted to the center of the roadway.
The next instant his action was explained, as he bent and seized a big leather wallet that lay there. Or, rather, he was just about to seize it, when one of the two men who had alighted from the train also dashed from the small depot, in front of which they had been standing.
He was a broad-shouldered, rough-looking fellow, with a coarse beard and hulking shoulders. His clothes were rather poor.
“What you got there, boy?” he demanded, as the other Boy Scouts and his own companion came up.
“WHAT YOU GOT THERE, BOY?” HE DEMANDED.
“A wallet,” said Merritt, examining his find; “it’s marked ‘R. D.—U. S. A.’”
A strange light came into the rough-looking man’s eyes. His comrade, too, appeared agitated, and gripped the bearded fellow’s arm, whispering something to him.
“Let’s have a look at that wallet, young chap,” quoth the bigger of the two strangers, almost simultaneously.