Henry Davis took the wallet and pretended to count the bills.

"Hullo, what's that?" he cried, whirling around.

"What's wot?" demanded Josiah Bean, also looking around.

"I thought I heard somebody cry fire."

"Don't say thet! Say, let's git out o' here--I don't want to look at the sights."

"All right--here's your money. I guess it's six hundred after all,"

answered the slick-looking individual, pa.s.sing over the wallet.

They hurried to the elevator and got into quite a crowd of people.

"Wait for me here," said Henry Davis, as they walked past the side corridor. "I want to step in yonder office and send a message to a friend."

He ran off, leaving the old farmer by himself. Josiah Bean looked around him nervously.

"I guess that wasn't no cry o' fire after all," he mused. "Well, if there's a fire I kin git out from here quick enough."

The office building was a large one, running from one street to the next. On the street in the rear was a bookstore, the proprietor of which had advertised for a clerk.

Joe had applied for the position and was waiting for the proprietor to address him when, on chancing to look up, he saw Henry Davis rush past as if in a tremendous hurry.

"Hullo, that's the fellow who was with the old farmer," he told himself.

"What can I do for you, young man?" asked the proprietor of the bookshop, approaching at that instant.

"I believe you wish a clerk," answered our hero.

"Have you had experience in this line?"

"No, sir."

"Then you won't do. I must have someone who is experienced."

"I am willing to learn."

"It won't do. I want an experienced clerk or none at all," was the sharp answer.

Leaving the bookstore, Joe stood out on the sidewalk for a moment and then walked around the corner.

A moment later he caught sight of Josiah Bean, gazing up and down the thoroughfare and acting like one demented.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Matter?" bawled the old farmer. "I've been took in! Robbed! Swindled!

Oh, wot will Mirandy say!"

"Who robbed you?"

"Thet Mr. Davis I reckon! He counted the money last, an' now it's gone!"

"I saw Mr. Davis a minute ago."

"Where?"

"Around the corner, walking as fast as he could."

"He's got my money! Oh, I must catch him!"

"I'll help you," answered Joe, with vigor. "I thought he looked like a slick one," he added.

He led the way and Josiah Bean came behind. The old farmer looked as if he was ready to drop with fright. The thought of losing his wife's money was truly horrifying.

"Mirandy won't never forgive me!" he groaned. "Oh, say, boy, we've got to catch that rascal!"

"If we can," added our hero.

He had noted the direction taken by the swindler, and now ran across the street and into a side thoroughfare leading to where a new building was being put up.

Here, from a workman, he learned that the sharper had boarded a street car going south. He hailed the next car and both he and the old farmer got aboard.

"This ain't much use," said Josiah Bean, with quivering lips. "We dunno how far he took himself to."

"Let us trust to luck to meet him," said Joe.

They rode for a distance of a dozen blocks and then the car came to a halt, for there was a blockade ahead.

"We may as well get off," said our hero. "He may be in one of the forward cars."

They alighted and walked on, past half a dozen cars. Then our hero gave a cry of triumph.

"There he is!" he said, and pointed to the swindler, who stood on a car platform, gazing anxiously ahead.

CHAPTER XVI.

A MATTER OF SIX HUNDRED DOLLARS.

"Say, you, give me my money!"

Such were Josiah Bean's words, as he rushed up to Henry Davis and grabbed the swindler by the shoulder.

The slick-looking individual was thoroughly startled, for he had not dreamed that the countryman would get on his track so soon. He turned and looked at the man and also at Joe, and his face fell.