His aims were childishly simple: First, to find out how much money his
victim had, and then to get it.

His methods were no more complicated than his aims and had weathered the
test of generations of experience. So:

"Of course Tony must be bailed out," he said gently. "You don't want him
to spend the night in jail."

"Jail! Oh, no! How much is the bail?" cried Tony's mother.

"Only five hundred dollars." His pale gray eyes were watching her for
the slightest sign of suspicion.

"Five hundred dollars! Eoi! Eoi! It is a fortune! Where can I get five
hundred dollars?" She burst into tears. "I have saved only one hundred
and sixty!"

Mr. Simpkins pursed his lips. Then there was nothing for it! He reached
for his hat. Mrs. Mathusek wrung her hands. Couldn't the gentleman go
bail for Tony? He was such a dear, kind, good gentleman! She searched
his face hungrily. Mr. Simpkins falteringly admitted that he did not
possess five hundred dollars.

"But--" he hesitated.

"Yes!"

"But--" she echoed, seizing his sleeve and dragging him back.