Part 47 (2/2)

”You're a trump, Phil!”

”Yes, I think I managed pretty well,” said Phil, complacently.

”Tell me how you did it.”

So Phil explained.

”You were in precious luck, I can tell you. I had no idea things would turn in your favor so. Let me see--here are two one-hundreds.”

”Yes; that's what you said.”

”True. Were there more in the trunk?”

”Yes; I heard father say there were a thousand dollars in bonds.”

James Congreve's face was overspread by an expression of covetousness.

”It's a pity you didn't take more,” he said.

”But what was the need of taking more? These will pay my debt to you.”

”Of course. Still, it seemed such a good chance.”

”You don't think I'm going to set up as a thief, do you, Congreve?”

asked Philip, in surprise.

”No, of course not. I didn't mean anything. Well, Phil, the sooner these are disposed of the better.”

”You are going to attend to that?”

”Yes. I believe I will take the next train up to the city.”

”When will you be back?”

”To-night. I will bring you the balance of the money--say, fifty dollars.”

”There ought to be more than that for me.”

”Oh, it will be all right! Only, you know, I will have to sell them below the market price, at some place where no questions are asked.”

”I've no doubt you'll do the square thing,” said Philip, who did not know that this statement of Congreve's was only a flimsy pretense to enable him to appropriate a larger share of the plunder, as it may fairly be called.

”I'll promise you fifty dollars, whatever the bonds bring,” said Congreve.

”Thank you.”

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