He began to struggle and might have gotten away, but the other officer came up, quickly followed by Mark and Frank. Then the rascal was handcuffed.
“This is all a mistake,” said Jabez Garrison. “I insist upon it, gentlemen, I have done nothing wrong.”
“Then what did you run away for?” sneered one of the officers.
“I—have—er—been feeling very bad for months. In fact, I sometimes think I am going crazy, I have such pains in the head.”
“You must have been crazy when you walked off from Philadelphia,” said Frank. “Where is all the money you took with you?”
“I—er—I don’t know anything about any money. I am a poor man. Oh, my head!” and Jabez Garrison put his hand to his temple. “Yes, I must be going crazy!” he moaned.
“I guess he is putting on,” said Mark. “I think his valise ought to be searched.”
“No! no!” cried the swindler, in fresh alarm.
“We’ll take it to the station house,” said one of the officers.
Despite his protestations that he was innocent of all wrongdoing, and his declaration that he must be going crazy, Jabez Garrison was taken to the station house. There his valise was searched, and much to Frank’s satisfaction it was found to contain bank notes to the amount of fourteen thousand dollars.