CHAPTER XXX.
THE ATTEMPTED ROBBERY.
Dick Ralston was in the real estate office when the telegram was received. Indeed, he spent a good deal of his time there, so that it was supposed by some that he had a share in the business.
“Look at that, Dick!” said the bookkeeper, passing the telegram to his confederate.
“Confusion! What sends him home so soon?” said Ralston. “Do you suppose he suspects anything?”
“No. How can he? Perhaps,” said Mullins, nervously, “we had better give up the whole thing. You see how I will be placed. I’m afraid I shall be suspected.”
“Look here!” growled Ralston, “I don’t want to hear any such weak, puerile talk. How do you propose to pay me the nine hundred and sixty-odd dollars you owe me? Do you expect to save it out of your salary?” he concluded, with a sneer.
“I wish we had never met,” said the bookkeeper, in a troubled tone.
“Thank you; but it is too late for that. There is nothing to do but to carry out our program. How much money is there on deposit in the bank?”
“About twenty-four hundred dollars.”