“Did you get the slip of paper I dropped?” Jack asked.
“No, where did you drop it?”
“Just as we got on the cars,” he said; “it only had the name Wilbur on it.”
“I didn’t see it,” Nick remarked. “So that chap with you was the banker’s son?”
“That’s the sprig,” replied Tambourine. “Don’t look much like a thief, does he? He made quite a time when Skip took the old fellow away. I thought there would be bloodshed, but Wilbur weakened. Skip seemed to be possessed of a million fiends last night.”
“Does he know where the new hiding place is?” Nick asked.
“You can gamble he don’t, and, between me and you, I don’t think Greer does,” answered the little fellow. “They told him of a certain place, I guess, but my private opinion is, they will dump him unless he soon puts up some more money. They asked for some last night, but he had none to give them.”
“I don’t see where he can get any,” reflected the detective.
“Dick Denton,” said Jack, “spoke to Skip last night, about returning the old man. Field has offered them large sums, several times, to do so. They would have done it long ago, I am thinking, only for the oath that binds them to Greer. I am certain that if Rusty Owens got the old bloke away from them, that he would have given him for the reward, unless the other side paid more.”
“Well, now to work again!” cried Nick. “We must find the new hiding place!”