Chase took out a plethoric pocketbook, stuffed with bills, and called attention to it, smilingly:
“We bankers always have to be well provided with money.”
The mechanic looked respectfully at the owner of so much money.
“I dare say it’s more than I could earn in a year,” he said.
“I dare say you are right, my friend,” said the young man.
“Very well. Count out the money, and the bond is yours.”
The exchange was made, and both parties seemed well satisfied.
Chase deposited the bond in an inside pocket and then, saying, carelessly, “I’ll go into the smoking car for a few minutes,” rose from his seat.
But in the meantime Harry had returned to his own seat, and whispered a few words in the ear of the detective.
The latter sharply scrutinized the young man who called himself Chase, and said, in a low voice: