"Yes, open the wallet," said the conductor, who, as Paul's friend, was led to hope that the result of the search might, somehow or other, turn out for Paul's advantage.
"Thee shall not do it!" exclaimed the old Quaker, in excitement. "It is my property, and no one shall open it."
He thrust out his hand and tried to clutch it, but the detective held it above his head.
"I cannot understand your reluctance," he said. "Is there anything in it that you are anxious to conceal?"
"Nay," answered the Quaker, faintly; "but it is my property."
"Will you tell me what is in it?"
The old man was silent.
"Then I will open it."
"Ha!" exclaimed the detective, drawing out two pieces of pasteboard. "Here are two pool tickets; and here," drawing out another paper, "is a lottery ticket. Do Quakers deal in such articles?"
"Some evil-disposed person must have put them there," said the old man, nervously, "The boy——"