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"If Caven and I sold you good stocks we ought to be kicked full of holes," grumbled Malone.
"That was your lookout, not mine," returned Maurice Vane. "Mind, I don't say the shares are valuable. But they may be, and if so I shall be satisfied with my bargain."
"Humph! where do I come in?"
"You don't come in at all--and you don't deserve to."
"If I didn't swindle you, you can't have me held for swindling."
"I don't intend to have you held. You can go for all I care."
Maurice Vane explained the situation to the police authorities and that evening Pat Malone was allowed to go. He threatened to have somebody sued for false imprisonment but the police laughed at him.
"Better not try it on, Malone," said one officer. "Remember, your picture is in our Rogues' Gallery," and then the rascal was glad enough to sneak away. The next day he took a train to Baltimore, where, after an hour's hunt, he found Gaff Caven.
"We made a fine mess of things," he said, bitterly. "A fine mess!"
"What are you talking about, Pat?" asked Caven.
"Do you remember the mining stocks we sold to Maurice Vane?"
"Certainly I do."
"Well, he has got 'em yet."
"All right, he can keep them. We have his money too," and Gaff Caven chuckled.
"I'd rather have the shares."
"Eh?"
"I said I'd rather have the shares, Gaff. We put our foot into it when we sold 'em."
"Do you mean to say the shares are valuable?" demanded Gaff Caven.
"That's the size of it."
"Who told you this?"
"n.o.body told me, but I can put two and two together as quick as anybody."
"Well, explain."
"I was in Philadelphia when I ran into that hotel boy, Joe Bodley."
"What of that?"
"He had me arrested. Then they sent for Mr. Maurice Vane, and Vane made me prove that the shares were really ours when we sold them to him. I thought I'd go clear if I could prove that, so I went and did it. Then Vane said he wouldn't prosecute me, for the shares might be valuable after all."
"But the mine is abandoned."
"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. I guess Mr. Maurice Vane knows what he is doing, and we were fools to sell out to him."
"If that mine is valuable I'm going to have it!" cried Gaff Caven. "He can have his money back!" and the rascal who had overreached himself began to pace the floor.
"Maybe he won't take his money back."
"Then I'll claim the mine anyway, Pat--and you must help me."
"What can you do?"
"Go out to Montana, just as soon as the weather is fit, and relocate the mine. If it's any good we can find some fellows to help us hold it somehow. I'm not going to let this slip into Maurice Vane's hands without a struggle."
"Talk is cheap, but it takes money to pay for railroad tickets," went on Malone.
"I've got the dust, Pat."
"Enough to fight Vane off if he should come West?"
"I think so. I met a rich fellow last week and I got a loan of four thousand dollars."
"Without security?" and Malone winked suggestively.
"Exactly. Oh, he was a rich find," answered Gaff Caven, and gave a short laugh.
"I'm willing to go anywhere. I'm tired of things here. It's getting too warm for comfort."
"Then let us start West next week--after I can finish up a little business here."
"I am willing."
And so the two rascals arranged to do Maurice Vane out of what had become his lawful property.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE FIRE AT THE HOTEL.
On the day following the scene at the police station Maurice Vane stopped at the Grandon House to interview our hero.
"I must thank you for the interest you have taken in this matter, Joe,"
said he. "It is not every lad who would put himself out to such an extent."
"I wanted to see justice done, Mr. Vane," answered our hero, modestly.