Martin did not fail to go to the house occupied by his employers, in the evening. He was anxious to learn the amount of the booty which he had taken. He decided that it must be ten thousand dollars at least. Half of this would be five thousand, and this, according to the agreement between them, was to come to him. It was quite a fortune, and the thought of it dazzled Martin's imagination. He would be able to retire from business, and resolved to do so, for he did not like the risk which he incurred by following his present employment.

Martin had all his life wished to live like a gentleman,—that is, to live comfortably without work; and now his wish seemed likely to be gratified. In the eyes of some, five thousand dollars would seem rather a small capital to warrant such a life; but it seemed a great deal to a shiftless character like him. Besides, the box might contain more than ten thousand dollars, and in that case, of course, his own share would be greater.

So, on the whole, it was with very pleasant anticipations that Martin ascended the front steps of the counterfeiter's den, and rang the bell.

Meanwhile Smith had opened the box, and his disappointment had been great when he found the nature of its contents. Actually but four hundred dollars were immediately available, and, as the banker no doubt had recorded the number of the government bonds, there would be risk in selling them. Besides, even if sold, they would produce, at the market price, barely eleven hundred dollars. As to the bank and railway shares, they could not be negotiated, and no doubt duplicates would be applied for. So, after all, the harvest was likely to prove small, especially as Smith had passed his word to divide with Martin.

After a while it occurred to him that, as Martin did not know the contents of the box, he could easily be deceived into supposing them less than they were. He must tell a falsehood; but then Smith's conscience was tough, and he had told a great many in the course of his life.

When Martin was ushered into the room, he found his confederate looking rather sober.

"Have you opened the box?" inquired Martin, eagerly.

"Yes," said Smith, rather contemptuously. "A great haul you made, I must say."

"Wasn't there anything in it?" asked Martin, in dismay.

"Yes, there were plenty of bank and railroad shares."

"Can't we sell them?" queried Martin, whose knowledge of business was limited.

"You must be a fool! We can't sell them without the owner's indorsement. Perhaps you'll call and ask him for it."

"Can't we do anything with them, then?" asked Martin, anxiously.

"Nothing at all."

"Wasn't there nothing else in the box?"

"Yes, there was a government bond for five hundred dollars."

Smith concluded to mention only one.

"That's something."

"Yes, it's something. You can sell it after a while, and bring me half the money."

"Will there be any danger in selling it?"

"None to speak of," said Smith, who was afraid Martin might decline selling it, unless he gave this assurance.

"Wasn't there any money?" asked Martin, disappointed.

"Yes, there was a trifle,—a hundred dollars," answered his unscrupulous confederate, who was certainly cheating Martin in the most barefaced manner.

"Half of that belongs to me," said Martin.

"Of course it does. Do you think I wouldn't treat you fair?"

"No," said his dupe. "I know, Mr. Smith, you're a man of honor."

"Of course I am. I'd like to see anybody say I wasn't. I've left everything in the box just as it was, so you might see it was all right."

He went to the cupboard, and, unlocking it, produced the box, of which he lifted the lid. The certificates of stock were at the bottom. Above them, folded up, was the five-twenty U. S. bond for five hundred dollars, and upon it a small roll of green-backs.

"You see it's just as I say, Martin," said Smith, with an air of frankness. "There's the shares that we can't do anything with, here's the bond, and there's the money. Just take and count it, I may have been mistaken in the amount."

Martin counted the roll of bills, and made out just one hundred dollars. Of course he could not be expected to know that there had been three hundred more, which, together with the other bond, were carefully concealed in his confederate's breast-pocket.

"Yes, it's just a hundred dollars," he said, after finishing the count.

"Well, take fifty of them, and put in your pocket."

Martin did so.

"It aint what I expected," he said, rather ruefully. "If I'd knowed there was so little in the box, I wouldn't have taken it."

"Well, it's better than nothing," said Smith, who could afford to be philosophical, having appropriated to himself seven-eighths of the money, and three-fourths of the bonds. "There's the bond, you know."

"Let me see it."

Smith extended it to Martin.

"When shall I sell it?" asked he.

"Not just yet. Wait till the affair blows over a little."

"Do you think there's any danger, then?" queried Martin, anxiously.

"Not much. Still it's best to be prudent."

"Hadn't you better sell it yourself?"

"Suppose I did," said Smith. "I might take the notion to walk off with all the money."

"I don't think you would," said Martin, surveying his confederate doubtfully, nevertheless.

"No, I don't think I would; but if you sell it yourself, you'll have the affair in your own hands."

"But I might walk off with all the money, too," said Martin, who thought it a poor rule that didn't work both ways.

"I don't think you would," said Smith, "and I'll tell you why. We belong to a large band, that are bound together by a terrible oath to punish any one guilty of treachery. Suppose you played me false, and did as you say,—though of course I know you don't mean it,—I wouldn't give that for your life;" and he snapped his fingers.

"Don't!" said Martin, with a shudder. "You make me shiver. Of course I didn't mean anything. I'm on the square."

"Certainly, I only told you what would happen to you or me, or any one that was false to the others."

"I think I'd rather have you sell the bond," said Martin, nervously.

"If I were in your case, I'd be perfectly willing; but the fact is, the brokers know me too well. They suspect me, and they won't suspect you."

"I think I've had my share of the risk," grumbled Martin. "I don't see but I do the work, and you share the profits."

"Wasn't it I that put you up to it?" demanded Smith. "Would you ever have thought of it if it hadn't been for me?"

"Maybe I wouldn't. I wish I hadn't."

"You're a fool, then! Don't you see it's turned out all right? Haven't you got fifty dollars in your pocket, and won't you have two hundred and fifty more when the bond is sold?"

"I thought I'd get five thousand," said Martin, dissatisfied.

"It seems to me that three hundred dollars is pretty good pay for one morning's work; but then there are some people that are never satisfied."

"It wasn't the work, it was the danger. I aint at all sure but the boy saw me, and knew who I was. If he did, I've got to keep out of the way."

"Do you think he did recognize you?" asked Smith, thoughtfully.

"I'm not sure. I'm afraid he did."

"I wish we'd got him in our clutches. But I dare say he was too frightened to tell who it was."

"He aint easy frightened," said Martin, shaking his head. He understood our hero better than his confederate.

"Well, all is, you must be more careful for a few days. Instead of staying in the city, I'll send you to Jersey City, Newark, and other places where you won't be likely to meet him."

"That might do," said Martin; "he's a smart boy, though he's an undootiful son. He don't care no more for me than if I was no kith nor kin to him, and he just as lieves see me sent to prison as not."

"There's one thing you haven't thought of," said Smith.

"What's that?"

"His employer will most likely think that the boy has stolen the box, or had something to do with its being carried off. As he took him out of the street, he won't have much confidence in his honesty. I shouldn't be at all surprised if this undootiful boy of yours, as you call him, found himself locked up in the Tombs, on account of this little affair."

"Do you think so?" said Martin, brightening up at the suggestion.

"I think it more likely than not. If that is the case, of course you won't be in any danger from him."

"That's so," said Martin, cheerfully. "I hope you're right. It would be worth something to have that young imp locked up. He wouldn't put on so many airs after that."

"Well, it's very likely to happen."

The contemplation of this possibility so raised Martin's spirits, that, in spite of the disappointment he had experienced in finding the booty so far below what he had anticipated, he became quite cheerful, especially after Smith produced a bottle of whiskey, and asked him to help himself,—an invitation which he did not have occasion to repeat.