He got inside and the car whizzed away.
Joe found Anderson and his wife radiant.
“He did it, Mr. Matson!” the old man cried. “He grumbled a lot about having had to telegraph on to New York to have his bank wire the cash to him, but he did it. And I signed a paper giving him a release of all claims against him. Oh, Mr. Matson, we can never thank you enough for what you have done for us.”
His wife joined in his expressions of gratitude.
“Don’t mention it,” smiled Joe. “I only did what any decent man would do to right a great wrong. And you squared the account when you gave me that warning the other day. I was just on the point of stepping into a trap when I thought of the warning and it saved me.”
“Is that so?” cried Anderson, delightedly. “I’m mighty glad if it helped you.”
They chatted happily for a few minutes and then, as his time was getting short, Joe took his leave with their repeated thanks ringing in his ears.
He was dumbfounded when he saw that the taxicab was not there.
“Where in thunder is that fellow?” he asked himself. “I suppose he’s getting a nip in the nearest saloon.”