“Cheap at the price,” remarked Copeland. He had taken a check book from the table and was frowningly inspecting the last stub.
“I didn’t come to collect,” said Jerry. “Any old time will do.”
“How did the rest of the boys come out?” asked Copeland, throwing the book down impatiently.
“Oh, the big sneeze from Chicago got a heavy soaking. The judge took it out on him for the rest of you. Wouldn’t do, of course, to send prominent business men to the work-house. All fined under assumed names.”
“Rather expensive evening for me. Much obliged to you just the same for saving me a ride in the wagon.”
“Oh, that was easy,” said Jerry. “By the way, I guess we’d better slip my lawyer friend another ten. He dug this up for you—no questions, no fuss; all on the dead quiet.”
He drew from his trousers pocket a crumpled bit of paper and handed it to Copeland.
Jerry was not without his sense of the dramatic. He rolled a cigarette and watched Copeland out of the corner of his eye.
“See here, Jerry,” said Copeland quickly, “I don’t know about this. If I gave that check, and I know I did, I’ve got to stand by it. It’s not square—”
“Oh, I wouldn’t burst out crying about that!” remarked Jerry easily. “Five thousand is some money, and the Chicago shark was glad enough to have the check disappear from the police safe. You were stewed when you wrote the check; and besides, it was a crooked game. Forget it; that’s all!” He stretched himself and yawned. “Can I do anything for you?”