Brand sat down on the bed, and answered, with a smile:

 

"It means that I want your money, young man."

 

"How do you know that I have any?"

 

"I was in the Park National Bank when you drew money this morning. I want it."

 

"So you are a thief?" returned Gerald, hotly, "You would rob a boy?"

 

"I would rob any one that had money. The fact is, I am hard up and must get money somewhere."

 

"And this was your object in making my acquaintance and taking me about the city."

 

"Yes; you have guessed it."

 

"The money that I have does not belong to me. If I had any money of my own I would give it to you."

 

"I don't care whether the money is yours or the mayor's. A dollar is a dollar, no matter to whom it belongs. So fork over, young man, and don't keep me waiting."

 

"Is it possible such crimes are committed in a great city with hundreds near at hand?"

 

"That's a conundrum¹. However, I can answer in the affirmative. Now, how much money have you got?"

 

The money Gerald had drawn² from the bank he had put in his inside vest-pocket. That amounted, as the reader is aware, to one hundred and fifty dollars. The money he had brought from Portville he had in his wallet, and this amounted to only fifty. The loss of this would not inconvenience him. He decided³ to give this up if necessary. The question in Gerald's mind was whether Brand had seen him put away the Park Bank money.

 

"I have fifty dollars," he answered. "I will give you ten dollars if you will let me go."

 

"Ten dollars!" repeated Brand, scornfully. "You must think me an idiot."

 

"But I can't get along without money."

 

 

"WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?"

 

"Neither can I. So hand over your money." It looked as if Brand were deceived, and that Gerald might save the more considerable sum in his vest-pocket. But to part with it too easily might excite suspicion.

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