"That's fortunate. On my honor, I'm sorry for you. I haven't much money with me, but I'll lend you a dollar or two with the greatest of pleasure."
This offer quite bewildered Walter. He felt confident that the other had stolen his money, and now here he was offering to lend him some of it. He did not care to make such a compromise, or to be bought off so cheap; so, though quite penniless, he determined to reject the offer.
"I won't borrow," he said, coldly. "I was hoping you had seen my money."
"Sorry I didn't. Better let me lend you some."
"I would rather not borrow."
Walter could not for the life of him add "Thank you," feeling no gratitude to the man who he felt well assured had robbed him.
The pickpocket turned and went back to his game, and Walter slowly left the car. He had intended to ask him point-blank whether he had taken the money, but couldn't summon the necessary courage. He went back to his old seat.
"Well," said the old gentleman who sat behind him, "I suppose you did not find your man?"
"Yes, I did."