“I deny it!” said Paul, with emphasis. “Have you got the book with you?”
“N—no; they wouldn’t give it back to me,” complained Jerry.
“And they did right. If you ever play such a trick on me again, robbing me in my sleep, I’ll leave you. Suppose I should get hold of your bank book—”
“I—I haven’t any money in the bank. I’m so poor!” ejaculated the miser, panic stricken.
“I have reason to believe you have the bank book in your pocket at this moment.”
“You—you wouldn’t rob me, Paul?” implored Jerry.
“How can I if you have no bank book? But you can rest easy. I am not in the habit of stealing.”
He went out to supper, leaving Jerry utterly discomposed. Not only had his plan failed, but his secret had been discovered.