“Don’t want it, thanks,” answered Nelson as he cut the laces. The captive began to swear again, and Dan promptly stuffed Tom’s socks into place again. Nelson drew off the second wet boot and extracted another wad of bills.
“Twenty-two,” he said. “That makes fifty-seven in all. That’s not so bad, fellows. I guess we can afford to call quits with our friend there. He’s welcome to what he got away with, I guess.”
“He hasn’t got any more boots, has he?” asked Tom.
“Untie him now,” said Nelson, “and let him put his boots on again, and get out of here as soon as he knows how. He deserves to go to jail, but we promised to let him off.”
“When we let him go,” suggested Tom, “let’s let Barry go too! What do you say?”
“I say no,” answered Dan. “Barry might bite him.”
“It would serve him right,” said Tom.
“Maybe; but I don’t want Barry poisoned,” replied Dan with a grin.
They untied the man’s hands, and stood back while he unloosed his ankles and drew the sodden boots on. He said no word during the operation, but the sullen, hopeless look on his pinched face made even Tom uncomfortable. Tom had seized the broken pick when they had untied the thief as though resolved to sell his life dearly.
“Put that thing down,” said Bob disgustedly.