treacherous dog! Swearing it off on me to save a few years of his
miserable life out of jail. See here!" stopping suddenly before Mr.
Pinkerton, "That traitor made me swear I would never squeal. All I got
out of the whole swag was two thousand dollars, but even then, if he had
done the square thing, I would have kept mum, though I were sent down to
rock-pile. But the man that would play that low, scaley trick on me is
going to suffer for it. What do you want to know?"

"Now you are getting sensible," said Mr. Pinkerton. "We want to get the
money. You know where it is? We know that last October a valise was sent
to you from St. Louis to Leavenworth, which you were to give to Cook. We
know that Cook received some of the stolen money. You had some, too. We
have shadowed you all over Kansas City. You have been seen in the White
Elephant playing faro, you were followed to the widow's fortune-telling
room. We know where you lived, and have letters which you received from
Jim Cummings.

"That isn't his name," broke in Dan.

Mr. Pinkerton stopped. He saw he had Dan up to the proper point, and
where before he would have died rather than given a grain of information
in connection with the case, he was now anxious to tell all he knew of
it. Dan continued:

"Jim Cummings isn't his right name any more'n it's mine. His name is
Fred Wittrock, and he lives in Chicago."

"Where?"

"At--West Lake street."