He was right in his estimate. Two minutes later the two went out of the saloon together, accompanied by Tom.
“Well, what is it?” he asked.
“Let us turn into a side street.”
They turned into Thirtieth Street, which was much less brilliantly lighted than Broadway, and sauntered leisurely along.
“Did you buy the bonds of that boy?” asked Morrison, anxiously.
“Yes.”
“Then it's all right. Have you brought me the money?”
“How should I?” returned Ford, impatiently. “I couldn't pay him, and keep the money myself.”
“Oh, well, it doesn't matter. He is to meet me to-morrow morning and hand over the money.”
“I am afraid you will be disappointed.” “Disappointed,” repeated Morrison, quickly. “What do you mean? The boy hasn't made off with the money, has he? If he has—-” and the sentence ended with an oath.