I myself did not know, but I asked Billy if he told the detectives that I gave him the bonds. The little fellow cast a look at me that was full of contempt, and at the same time I could see that he was hurt by the mere suggestion that he would play the part of a “squealer.” For fully two minutes neither of us spoke a word, but I was giving the subject a serious consideration. “We’ll charge the bonds to profit and loss,” said I, in conclusion. “No use doing that,” he declared; “you’ve got to see the cops and divide with them.” I could calmly say I would charge the bonds to the loss column, but to divide money, that had been obtained through the looting of a bank vault, with officers of the law, sworn to protect the lives and property of the people, seemed to me to be too base a proposition for consideration. I had been driven to crime through injustice of the basest sort, had connived in the robbery of a bank through sheer desperation, the result of persecution, but I had not yet, it seemed to me, sunk so low as to divide ill-gotten money with an officer in the employment of the people,--the act, as it seemed to me, placing me with him in the same category of the traitor. Up to that time I had had no acquaintance with the New York detectives. I explained my thoughts to Billy. It caused him to smile. “But why should I do this?” I asked; “they don’t know me from a Chinese idol.” “But they will know you, George. You seem to forget that Tim Golden’s in this town, and a thousand-dollar reward is hanging over your head. And there’s Jim Kelso too--both of them are fly cops and know you.” I confessed that this recollection was not refreshing. My fortunate escape from Ohio had made me think lightly of any chance of being found in this big city and carted back to New Hampshire. “And,” continued Matthews, “Detective McCord pulls a long stroke with Jim Kelso, who’s bound to be superintendent of police one of these days. If you stay in New York, they’re sure to get you sooner or later.” “Still, I don’t see why I should go to the front if I let the bonds slip; the cops have ’em, and that ought to be enough.” “Now don’t presume for a minute that they’ll let you walk the streets of New York without staking them,” Billy exclaimed, his impatience thoroughly aroused by my obstinacy. “But of course you don’t know, for you’re a greenhorn; but I know it, and d--d well too.” “Then you honestly mean that I must pay these traitorous policemen to live unmolested in this town? I can’t remain in hiding here and take my chance of keeping out of their hands?” I asked. “That’s it, and nothing else, White. If you stay here, the small-fry thieves who play the stool-pigeon for the police will put the information up to headquarters before you realize it, and into Mulberry Street you’ll go unless you settle.” “Ah, that’s the game, is it?” I said angrily.