CHAPTER XVII. — TWO YOUNG LADY PASSENGERS AT ODDS.
Ferguson produced a pair of handcuffs and pinioned the wrists of his captive. Palmer protested against the humiliation, but Ferguson said quietly: "You are too important a prisoner for me to run any risk."
"Are you going to handcuff him?" asked the burglar, indicating Fred.
"No."
"Why not? Why should you treat him better than me?"
"I don't think he is guilty; but even if he is I am not afraid of his running away."
"You are deceived in him. He looks innocent enough, but he has been concerned in a dozen burglaries."
"I hear considerable news about myself," said Fred, "but the truth will come out at last."
As the party passed through the streets they naturally attracted considerable attention. Though a criminal, Palmer had for years evaded arrest, and he felt mortified at the position in which he was placed. He reflected bitterly that but for the mistake of the hotel clerk, he might be at ease with his booty on the Canada side. As it was, things seemed to have worked steadily against him, notwithstanding his clever schemes. A long term of imprisonment stared him in the face, instead of a couple of years of luxury on which he had counted. If he could only involve Fred in his own misfortune it would be partial satisfaction. To effect this he was prepared to swear to anything and everything.