“I have been trying,” said Cole thoughtfully, “to persuade the sergeant to allow you to sell the blue god to our museum. It is worth considerable money merely as a specimen, but he won’t hear to it; says it’s sort of contraband and must be held by the police. I’m sorry. I’m sure you could have used the money to good advantage.”
“Oh, that’s all right—” The words stuck in Florence’s throat.
“Hold on now! Hold on!” exclaimed the sergeant, growing very red in the face. “I’m not so hard-hearted as I might seem. There’s a reward of five hundred dollars offered for the arrest and conviction—or words to that effect—of this here blue god. Now you girls have arrested him and before Mr. Cole he’s been convicted. All’s left is to make out the claims and I’ll do that free gratis and for nothing.”
“Five hun—five hundred dollars!” the girls exclaimed.
The sergeant stepped back a pace. It was evident that he was in fear of the embarrassment which might come to him by being embraced by three young ladies in a police station.
“I—I’ll lock him up for the night,” he muttered huskily and promptly disappeared into a vault.
“Well, I guess that’s all of that,” breathed Florence. “Quite a thrilling night for our last on the O Moo.”
“Not quite all,” said Cole. “There’s still the blue candlestick. The state makes no claims upon that. In the name of the museum I offer you two hundred dollars for it. How about it?”
“Splendid! Wonderful!” came from the girls.
“All right. Come round in the morning for the check. Good-night.” He disappeared into the darkness.