Stopping
suddenly, he appeared to pick up something from the sidewalk,
and then looked about him in rather a confused way.
"I know his game," whispered Dick. "Come along and you'll see what
it is."
He hurried Frank forward until they overtook the man, who had come
to a stand-still.
"Have you found anything?" asked Dick.
"Yes," said the man, "I've found this."
He exhibited a wallet which seemed stuffed with bills, to judge from
its plethoric appearance.
"Whew!" exclaimed Dick; "you're in luck."
"I suppose somebody has lost it," said the man, "and will offer a
handsome reward."
"Which you'll get."
"Unfortunately I am obliged to take the next train to Boston. That's
where I live. I haven't time to hunt up the owner."
"Then I suppose you'll take the pocket-book with you," said Dick,
with assumed simplicity.
"I should like to leave it with some honest fellow who would see it
returned to the owner," said the man, glancing at the boys.
"I'm honest," said Dick.
"I've no doubt of it," said the other. "Well, young man, I'll make
you an offer. You take the pocket-book--"
"All right. Hand it over, then."
"Wait a minute. There must be a large sum inside. I shouldn't wonder
if there might be a thousand dollars. The owner will probably give
you a hundred dollars reward."
"Why don't you stay and get it?" asked Frank.
"I would, only there is sickness in my family, and I must get home
as soon as possible.
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