“Why, yes,” stammered the man, edging away.
“Can you spare a match?”
Potts half reached into his pocket as if to proffer one, then said testily: “I haven’t any. Sorry.”
“Sure now, you must have a match,” said Jerry, brushing against him. “Maybe in your overcoat pocket.”
Before Potts could prevent it, he had thrust his hands deep into each of the outside pockets. The bank clerk jerked angrily away. However, it was too late. Jerry triumphantly brought to light a heavy manila envelope.
“Give that to me!” Potts cried furiously.
Sidestepping him, Jerry pulled several bonds of large denomination from the envelope.
“The stolen bonds!” exclaimed Penny. “Mr. Potts, whatever possessed you to do it?”
The bank secretary never answered the question. Instead, he wheeled and started at a run down the street. As he reached the corner, a policeman who had just finished making a report to headquarters, turned from his phone box.
“Stop that man!” yelled Jerry.