“If you wish me to return the ring to this young lady, I will do so, if she is positive it is hers.”
“Yes, you must do that, but it won't get you out of trouble. I shall hand you over to a policeman as soon as we reach New York.”
Phil was certainly dismayed, for he felt that it might be difficult for him to prove that he came honestly in possession of the ring.
“The fact is,” added the conductor, “your story is too thin.”
“Conductor,” said a new voice, “you are doing the boy an injustice.”
The speaker was an old man with gray hair, but of form still robust, though he was at least sixty five. He sat in the seat just behind Phil.
“Thank you, sir,” said Phil gratefully.
“I understand my business,” said the conductor impertinently, “and don't need any instructions from you.”
“Young man,” said the old gentleman, in a very dignified tone, “I have usually found officials of your class polite and gentlemanly, but you are an exception.”
“Who are you?” asked the conductor rudely. “What right have you to put in your oar?”