“Why shouldn’t I keep it? It was the only thing in the way of an agreement that I had with you.”
“Then”—and the colonel tossed his hands—“that lets in the search light on the two of us.”
“And we’ve caught a tartar in this meddling young whelp,” ground out Levitt, waving his hand toward Matt.
“He’s an intelligent youth, Levitt,” declared the colonel, “and amenable to reason. Let me talk with him. My dear young man,” said the colonel to Matt, “assuming that what you say about the report is true, in what way are you legally liable through association with Levitt and myself?”
“You’re trying to swindle a company of New York capitalists,” answered Matt, “and Joe and I, not knowing the deal was crooked, have already been dragged into it. If we allowed the plot to go on we would be equally guilty with you and Levitt, and we could be arrested and sent to prison.”
A tolerant smile crossed the colonel’s face.
“Suppose I assure you that there is not the remotest possibility of any of us going to prison,” said he; “will you give up that report and letter?”
Matt hesitated, not because his determination was wavering, but because he wanted to put his thoughts in the right words.
“It means a fortune to McGlory,” urged the colonel; “and what kind of a fellow are you to euchre a friend out of a fortune?”
“It’s not an honest fortune,” declared Matt, “and Joe can’t afford to accept it. Besides, what good would it do him if he found himself in the penitentiary for obtaining money under false pretenses?”