“Look here, Jim, let me understand you. This cousin of yours, or whatever he is, is a ne’er-do-well, all right; I guess you could call him a bum without being sued for libel, but just what do you mean by calling him a thief?”
“Why, I—well, I don’t want to call him that, Clem, because I—I’m awfully fond of him, but I guess I’ve got to, haven’t I, after what happened?”
“What did happen?” asked Clem brusquely.
Jim stared in puzzlement. “Why, he stole your money, Clem!”
“Oh, I see. Your cousin stole it.”
“Well—well, didn’t he?” asked Jim. “Didn’t you see it? Didn’t you hear what that man said, the Police Captain? I thought—”
“Yes, I saw and heard both, Jim, and— Look here, suppose we leave the word ‘stole’ out of it. Let’s say ‘borrowed.’ It sounds better. Anyway, what’s the good of talking about it any more? You’re sorry and I’m sorry. Let it go that way.”
“We-ell, all right,” answered Jim dubiously. “Only I wanted you to know that you were going to get your money back, Clem.”
“I’ve told you I didn’t care about that. Besides, hang it all, Jim, if this fellow Webb stole it why don’t you let him pay it back? If he stole it where does your liability come in?”