“Can’t do it,” answered the other briskly, buttoning his coat with none too steady fingers. “Fact is, I’m running up to Detroit and my train is leaving in about half a minute. I suppose you were surprised to find me gone, eh? Well, you see, I got a telegram this afternoon telling me that my father was very ill and I had to beat it off on the five-two. I was going to write and explain to you. I’ll do that, anyway. Glad to have seen you again. You keep that job open for me until Saturday and I’ll be back for it. Good-night.” He held out his hand and Joe took it. “Your train’s fifteen minutes late,” said Joe calmly. “So there’s no hurry. Sit down.” He still held Young’s hand and now pulled him gently toward the seat. Young resisted, but Joe’s clasp was a strong one, and unless he wanted to indulge in a scuffle there was nothing to do but give in. But it was a different Mr. Chester Young who faced Joe now. He tossed aside his cigarette and observed his captor defiantly. “Well, what you got to say, Faulkner?” he demanded. “I suppose you know why I’m here?” asked Joe. “Never mind what I know. Get down to business. What’s your game?” “My game’s to collect seventy-five dollars from you, Young. I ought to charge the costs of collection, too, I guess, but we’ll let that go. If you want to send nine dollars back by me to Mrs. Bennett, though, I’ll be glad to take it.” Young laughed softly. “And why should I hand seventy-five dollars over to you, Faulkner? What do you think I am, a national bank?” “If you want an itemized account,” responded Joe patiently, “I can oblige you. But your train will be leaving in about twelve minutes, you know. Roughly, the cigars and things you turned back to the dealers amounted to forty-seven dollars――――” Young’s expression changed enough to show that he had not expected Joe to have knowledge of that transaction. “And you got about thirty out of the cash register yesterday and today. That foots up to seventy-seven, and――――” “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” interrupted Young angrily, but without raising his voice. “Someone’s been stalling you. You’d better go back to Amesville and soak your head, sport. You’re too innocent to be so far from home.” “Ten minutes to train time now,” said Joe. “Come across, Young. You’re beaten, and you know it.” “Why, you silly chump, you can’t hold me up for money like this! I haven’t got that much, anyway, and if I had I wouldn’t be likely to pass it over to you. You must be crazy! You ought to get a job in a squirrel cage!” “If you haven’t seventy-five it’s going to be awkward,” said Joe reflectively. “I thought that probably you’d hand it over and there wouldn’t have to be any trouble about it. I hate to get my name in the papers, but if I have to all right.”