I suspect it is a wonder to Gennor to this day how the bag came into our hands.
He left town that night, headed for Chicago. [[220]]That is the last we ever saw of him. And moreover that is the last we ever want to see of him or any boy like him.
For, as Scoop says, the fun of being rich lies in doing good turns for other and less fortunate people. And when a fellow gets Gennor’s idea that money is something to lift himself above other people, he’s all wrong. Without his money he might have been a good kid. For he was smart. But with his money he was a fizzle. And that is why I hope that he’ll forever keep out of my way.
When we came even with the town hall, Scoop paused, letting his face go thoughtful.
“I think that we better make a prisoner of the talking frog, Jerry. For, with all of the trouble that we’ve had recovering it, we certainly don’t want to fumble and again lose it. I can’t feel that it’s wholly safe in our hands. And the better plan will be to put it where a thief won’t be able to get it.”
“Is it your idea,” I laughed, “to ask Bill Hadley to lock it up in one of his steel jail cages?”
“Why not?” grinned Scoop, starting for the door.
Seated at his desk, the town marshal gave us a questioning look when we entered. [[221]]
Scoop’s request brought a hearty laugh.
“How’d it be,” grinned Bill, good-natured-like, “if I locked your valuable bag in the big office safe?”