He wasn't dressed just for
the part of bank messenger, though he had the inside lining, all right!
A pursy old broker, I guess. Might have been a book-maker--you never can
tell. Anyhow, I am sort o' sorry for the chap. It would break _me_ all
up if I lost a wad of that size! Who is he? Hell, what a fool I am! Here
is the name on the flap of the wallet.
ABNER MCNAMEE,
24 Broadway, New York.
"'Abner McNamee! Abner McNamee!! Abner Mac----! Ain't this the limit!
Abner McNamee! We can't take this money! Just my damned, hydra-headed
luck! You hear me? It has always been that way with me--all my life! We
can't take this money, pardner! It's got to be returned! This money's
all got to go back--every cent of it! Ain't it a shame? Abner McNamee! I
oughter have known him at the time, but I only saw him once, and that
was years ago. He has taken on a lot of flesh since then. Abner McNamee!
Who'd 'a' thought it?'
"'Who the devil is Abner McNamee?' I asked, scenting treachery. This was
a share and share alike affair, and no crooked work, and--I needed the
money! 'What's the game--this McNamee business? Do you think I am a
fool?'
"'Look here, pal,' said my companion quietly, 'say bye-bye to your
dirigible and drop to the ground. You're all up in the air. Of course we
are together in this thing.
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