"Oh! You're claiming that you didn't do the robbin' at all? I see-e!
Standing on your previous record and insistin' you're the victim of foul
play? Sympathy dodge?... Hum! You stick to that, my boy," said Pete
benevolently. "Maybe that's as good a show as any. Get a good lawyer.
If you could hire some real fine old gentleman and a nice little old
gray-haired lady to be your parents and weep at the jury, it might help a
heap.... If you'd only had sense enough to have hid that money where it
couldn't have been found, or where it wouldn't have been a give-away on
you, at least! I suppose you was scared. But it sorter reflects back on
me, since you've been running with me lately. Folks will think I should
have taught you better. What made you do it, Stanley?"

"I suppose you think you're going to get me roiled, you old fool! You've
got another guess, then. You can't get my nanny! But I do think you might
tell me what's been going on. Even a guilty man has his curiosity. Did
you get the money I left for you?"

Pete's jaw sagged; his eye expressed foggy bewilderment.

"Money? What money? I thought they got it all when they arrested you?"

"Oh, don't be a gloomy ass! The money I left with Old Man Taylor; the
money you got down here for preliminary expenses on the mine."

"Mine?" echoed Pete blankly. "What mine?"

"Old stuff!" Stanley laughed aloud. "Go to it, old-timer! You can't faze
me. When you get good and ready to ring off, let me know."