Ferdinand shook his head. “No lawyer was ever put in jail for giving wrong advice, Amos. But I’ll do my best to defend you as soon as they put you in jail.”
“You—you wanted your cut out of it,” choked Amos. “That was the agreement. You hinted that I might take a few dollars from the bank. I bought a third interest in a well, and they never struck oil. I’ll tell ’em—the law—that you helped me; that you advised me to steal from the bank; that you—you⸺”
“If you keep on talking that way, Amos, I won’t defend you.”
“Defend me? You talk like I was already arrested.”
“It probably won’t be long, Amos. Are you sure they’ll miss it?”
“Miss it? There’s only ten thousand in the bank right now, and the bank examiner is due almost any day.”
“‘We are lost, the captain shouted, as he staggered down the stairs,’” quoted Ferdinand. “That’s worse than I anticipated, Amos. You have practically looted the organization, and the Lost Hills depositors are not the kind that⸺”
“I know that all by heart!” wailed Amos. “They’ll hang me.”
“But there is still ten thousand dollars in the bank,” mused Ferdinand. “Does Jim Eyton suspect you?”
Eyton was the president of the bank, a big, bluff sort of a person, who trusted Amos implicitly.