"Yes," said Barker, "all of us. It is no use I tell you, the thing is over."
"It is not over with you, my man," growled the Chief. "Here, sergeant, get Mr. Rockham his money and let us lock this fellow up."
The sergeant turned and thrust his hand into Barker's outside coat-pocket, then his chin dropped and he turned white. "It is gone!" he muttered.
"Gone!" shouted Rockham; "search the rascal!"
The sergeant began to go carefully over the man. Suddenly he stopped. "Chief," he muttered, "it was in that tobacco pouch."
The Police Chief staggered back and spun round on his heel. "Angels of Hell!" he gasped, "it was a cute trick, and it threw us all, every one of us."
Rockham bounded forward and brought his hand down heavily on Barker's shoulder. "As for you, my fine fellow," he said, bitterly, "we have you all right and we will land you in Sing Sing."
Barker was silent. In the dark the men could not see that he was smiling.