"I came here in good faith, and I didn't expect to be treated in this manner," growled Mr. Wittleworth.
"I am not yet willing to pay you for stealing my papers and money, or for employing another person to do it for you," added Mr. Checkynshaw, dryly.
"I did not steal them."
"Then you cannot object to telling me where you obtained them."
Mr. Wittleworth did object. He had undertaken to manage this business, and he expected to make at least a commission out of it. His plan was to pay Maggie fifty or a hundred dollars of the reward, and keep the rest himself. It was not probable that the barber,—who was ill at the time,—or his family, had read the newspapers, and it was not likely that they knew anything about the reward. Maggie, or even Leo, would be entirely satisfied with the fifty dollars, and ought to be exceedingly obliged to him for managing the matter so well for them.
Constable Clapp arrived in a few moments, and the case was stated to him.
"How much money was stolen with the papers?" asked the officer.
"About three hundred and fifty dollars," replied the banker.
"Very well; if this young gentleman will restore the papers and the money, he may take the reward; and then we shall be ready to attend to the criminal charge. That will make a balance of one hundred and fifty dollars in his favor," chuckled the officer.
"I am entirely willing to pay the reward I offered," added Mr. Checkynshaw, magnanimously.