“When?”—the question came out like a pistol shot.
“This afternoon, when I——”
“Where?” the other interrupted in the same sharp way. He acted as if he was specially interested.
“Down-stairs, in the money order and stamp room.” Ransom was getting even more excited—the other’s manner was catching.
“Describe it.”
Ransom paused to think a minute, and then began slowly as the denominations of the bills came to him.
“One twenty, eight tens, four fives, two twos and a dollar bill—then,” and he paused again, “there was besides two fives and five twos and three fives.”
As he spoke, the marshal began fingering the combination of the safe, his back to Kenneth; but the boy was so engrossed that he did not notice what he was doing.
“Well, you’ve got a good memory, youngster, here’s the money.” As he spoke, the marshal turned and handed out a bunch of bills and some letters.
“What!” the boy exclaimed amazed, his cheeks flushing, and his breath coming in quick gasps as he dropped into a chair. “Oh!”