“How comes it then that you have them in your possession?” asked the captain searchingly.
“I hold them in trust,” answered Morton after a pause.
“And where is this Armstrong?”
“In New York.”
Morton wiped the perspiration from his brow. He had been forced to make admissions that might prove damaging to him. How did he know but that full particulars of his flight might have been printed, and fallen under the eyes of his fellow-prisoners? If so, he risked his freedom by what he had confessed. He determined to part company with them as soon as possible.
“I shall not give these papers back to you,” said the chief. “They don’t belong to you, it appears.”
“They were confided to me by Mr. Armstrong.”
“They are safer in my hands. But we have wasted time enough on this matter, Alonzo, conduct the prisoners into the building.”
Now was Tom’s opportunity.
He walked boldly up to the robber-chief and said: