“Your trunk has gone aboard the ferry. Here’s the check—to Chicago. I thought you’d rather tote this bag yourself, though it’s pretty heavy.”
“Much obliged for all your trouble,” Brainard replied warmly. “And now for you!”
He pulled his roll of currency from his pocket, and handed five hundred-dollar bills to the reporter.
“You earned it! I never should have got away in time without you.”
“I guess that’s so. Much obliged for the dough; but the scoop alone is worth it. What a story! A light-fingered attorney from New York blowing in here under the court’s nose and lifting the whole Pacific Northern, and goodness knows what else besides, clean out of the State! Some folks who think they know how to do things will be sick to-morrow morning when they get the Despatch!”
He shoved the bills into his trousers pocket and pulled out another cigarette.
“There’s the gong!” he remarked.
“Thanks!” Brainard said warmly, shaking the reporter’s fat hand. “I’ll want to see your story. Send it to me!”
“And say, I’d make up a better yarn than that lawyer story, when you have time.”
“So you didn’t believe me?”