“Yet you hid away from me and wouldn’t let me know where you lived.”
“Did Paul tell you? How did you find me out, James?”
“No, he didn’t tell me, but I found out all the same. Never mind how! Only I warn you it won’t do you any good to hide from me in future. I have ways of finding you out. But let me convince you that I don’t need your money. Do you see that?”
As he spoke he drew out a roll of counterfeit bills and exhibited them to the astonished eyes of old Jerry.
The old man regarded him with new respect as the possessor of such unexpected wealth.
“Are—are they square?” he asked.
“Of course they are,” answered James. “I intended to give you a present if you hadn’t treated me so coolly—”
“I meant no offense, James,” said the old man, eying the money with a look of greed.
“Well, if you apologize, it’s all right!” said James, with noble magnanimity. “You’ll find you haven’t judged me right. I can do more for you than that telegraph kid. But I want you to trust me, and treat me kind, do hear?”
“Yes,” answered Jerry, meekly.