"No."
"That cursed book-keeper deceived us, then."
"You are mistaken. He was himself deceived. I gave him the wrong word."
"Curse you, then!" said Bill, savagely.
"Suit yourself, Mr. Burglar," said old Jack, indifferently. "There's an old saying, 'Curses, like chickens, still come home to roost.' Your cursing won't hurt me any."
"If my curses don't my fists may!" retorted Bill, with a malignant look.
"You won't have a chance to carry out your threats for some years to come, if you get your deserts," said Jack, by no means terrified. "I've only done my duty, and I'm ready to do it again whenever needed."
By this time the safe was open; all present saw the envelope of money labeled "$12,000."
The two burglars saw the prize which was to have rewarded their efforts and risk with a tantalizing sense of defeat. They had been so near success, only to be foiled at last, and consigned to a jail for a term of years.
"Curse the luck!" muttered Bill, bitterly, and in his heart Mike said amen.