"You don't say so!" exclaimed Shotbolt.
"Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. "I ought to tell you that Mr. Wild's reward is conditional upon Jack's being taken before to-morrow morning. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it."
"You think so, eh?" chuckled Shotbolt, who was eagerly perusing the reward, and congratulating himself upon his caution; "you think so—ha! ha! Well, don't go to bed, that's all."
"What for?" demanded the turnkey.
"Because the prisoner's arrival might disturb you—ha! ha!"
"I'll lay you twenty guineas you don't take him to-night," rejoined Austin.
"Done!" cried Shotbolt. "Mrs. Spurling, you're a witness to the bet. Twenty guineas, mind. I shan't let you off a farthing. Egad! I shall make a good thing of it."
"Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. Spurling, drily.
"My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin. I'll send you word when I catch him."
"You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey.