Jack smiled.
“I will in a minute, Dad,” he replied. “But I have a little surprise for you first. You remember the night when you were robbed of that money?” Jack thrust his hand beneath his pillow, and felt a canvas bag that lay concealed there.
“Certainly, Jack,” Mr. Holden answered.
“Have you ever had any hope of getting it back?”
Mr. Holden shook his head slowly. “Not after the first few days,” he replied gloomily.
“You’d be tickled to death, then, if it turned up now?”
“Don’t talk foolishly, lad. Such things don’t happen.”
“But if it did, Dad? What would you do?”
Mr. Holden would have preferred not to discuss the painful matter, but to humor his son, he rested his chin on his hands and thought for a while.