“Not a damned tag!”
Phil held it in his hand as if weighing the matter over, while Brenchfield watched him narrowly.
“Here’s its twin brother, Phil!”
He handed another cheque over. It was for fifteen hundred dollars also.
“And this one? What’s it for?”
“That’s to get out of here on to-morrow’s train and to stay out.”
“Uhm!” answered Phil. “That makes three thousand dollars.”
Brenchfield’s face took on a little more confidence. He knew the temptation proffered money held for the 93 average man. Only, he forgot that he was not dealing in averages with Phil Ralston.
“I’ve one more––a sort of big brother!” he remarked, handing over cheque number three.
Phil opened it up and whistled.