“Get up,” Ned advised, “and give the boy a chance.”
Jimmie arose, reluctantly, and Norman soon got to his feet.
“I said I’d tell you all about it some day,” Norman began, “and I’m going to do it right now!”
“Don’t work your imagination overtime!” scoffed Jimmie.
“Go on!” Ned suggested. “Say what you have to say. But let me tell you this,” he went on, “your story will have to be pretty straight, and not include any excursions into the land of the enemy, in order to be believed. You must remember that we’ve had trouble following your steers.”
“Don’t you believe a word he says!” almost shouted Gilroy, thinking only of his own inconvenience. “It was his fault that I was led to that awful Devil’s Punch Bowl. I’ll never get over that experience as long as I live! It was horrible—beyond belief.”
“Go on, Norman,” Ned advised. “Make it short!”
“I told you once,” the boy began, “that something terrible would happen to a person in New York if I ever gave Toombs any cause to believe that I wasn’t perfectly loyal to his interests.”
“I remember that,” Ned answered. “Go on!”
“That person,” Norman continued, “is my sister, a pretty girl of eighteen—though you wouldn’t believe she could be pretty, being my sister—who became employed in Toombs’ Wall street office a year ago. We lived together upon East Tenth street, and both had to work. When she secured the place in Toombs’ office we thought our fortunes were made, and for a time everything went well.”
“Aw, cut it short!” Jimmie hinted. “We don’t believe a word of it, you know, so you may as well ring off right now.”
“Don’t interrupt the boy,” Ned suggested. “Let him tell his story in his own way. We have plenty of time.”
“One day,” Norman continued, “a large sum of money—something like five thousand dollars—very mysteriously disappeared from Toombs’ safe. At least Toombs declared the money had been taken. Some of us never believed the story he told.
“The only person having a knowledge of the combination of the safe except Toombs himself was my sister. She was accused of taking the money, and Toombs threatened prosecution. At last he promised not to turn the matter over to the police if we would both promise to return the money.”
“Gee!” declared Jimmie in a friendlier tone. “That was a life sentence all right, wasn’t it? I don’t believe he ever lost any money.”