Who was the rough-spoken man who had come to his rescue by perhaps
dealing the detective a death-blow?
"He put the darbies on, did he?"
Bordine held up his manacled hands. The gruff-spoken individual fumbled
with them a moment, and then, to his great joy, Bordine found his wrists
free.
The stranger had done him a good turn indeed.
Now the young engineer was anxious about the detective's fate; who he
realized, had been acting in good faith no matter how foolishly he had
blundered.
"I'm allus on hand like a thumb," chuckled the man who had rescued
Bordine.
"You had keys to fit the handcuffs?"
"Took 'em from the bloke's pocket."
"I see."
Then, as he cast the bracelets from him, August bent over the prostrate
form of Silas Keene.
"I'm afraid you've seriously injured the man," said August lowly.
"Wal, nobody'll cry ef I have," grated the rescuer, "I expect we'd better
make sure of the job and then I kin claim the reward."
"Reward."
"Why, confound it, the rhino you promised me ef I'd knife the cursed beak
who was on yer trail."
"Oh yes, to be sure," returned the young engineer, who by this time began
to "catch on" to the true situation.
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