"The whole strength of his case lies in this forged paper. Let me get possession of that, and he can do nothing."
"I see."
"Now you know where he boards, probably?"
"Yes."
"Can't you contrive to get access to his room, search for the paper—very likely it is in his trunk—and, when obtained, bring it to me? I am ready to give a hundred dollars for it."
"I don't know," said Maurice, slowly. "I am afraid it would be difficult."
"But by no means impossible. I will give you ten dollars now, and that you may keep, whether you succeed or not. If you succeed, you shall have a hundred dollars besides. Do you agree?"
As he spoke he held a ten-dollar bill out temptingly. It was a temptation that Maurice Walton, with but fifty cents in his pocket, could not resist. He wanted money sorely. Besides, he had a chance to win a hundred dollars additional, and this would enable him to gratify several wishes which had hitherto seemed unattainable.
"I will do my best," he said, holding out his hand for the money.
There was a quiet flash of triumph in the cold, gray eye of his older companion, as he placed the bill in Maurice's hands.