"Between four and five dollars." "I am sorry for you," said Mrs. Clare. "But I am afraid you will never see your money again." "Does that rascal live around here?" "Sometimes. He comes and goes to suit himself. I suppose he will stay away now for a while." "Is there any use of my reporting this to the police, do you think?" "I don't think so. He once took my pocket-book from the table here--I am sure of it--but when I reported it to the police nothing was done. They said his word was as good as mine." "How long have I been here?" "About half an hour." "Then he has had a good chance to get away. Did you bring me here?" "Yes." "You are very kind, Mrs. ----" "I am Mrs. Clare and this is my daughter Rose." "And I am Randy Thompson, a deckhand on the Hudson River steamboat _Helen Shalley_." "Oh!" Mrs. Clare paused for a moment. "Do you know Mr. Polk, the purser?" "Yes, but not very well. I just got the job as a deckhand to-day." "Mr. Polk is a relative of mine by marriage." "I see." "We--that is--well, we are not very good friends," went on Mrs. Clare. "Mamma thinks Mr. Polk hasn't been honest with us," put in Rose, quickly. "I don't think so either." "Rose, you must not talk so!" "But it is true, isn't it?" returned the daughter. "I may be misjudging Cousin Peter," said Mrs. Clare. "You see," she added, by way of an explanation, "my cousin Peter Polk had the settlement of my husband's affairs when he died, and I have always imagined that--well, that Rose and I did not get exactly what was coming to us." "Mamma thought the account was three hundred dollars short," said Rose, who was inclined to be blunt. "Couldn't you get a clear statement?" questioned Randy, with interest. "We got a statement, but it was not clear to me," answered Mrs. Clare. As soon as he felt able to do so, Randy got on his feet. He felt rather dizzy and he had a large lump over his left ear, where he had been struck by the club. "See here," he said, when he was ready to depart, "I am much obliged to you for what you have done. But I'd like you to do more, if you will. As soon as this Bill Hosker comes back to this neighborhood let me know. You'll always find me on board of the _Helen Shalley_." "I'll let you know," answered Rose. "But don't let Bill Hosker know who told you, or he'll want to kill me." When Randy got back to the steamboat he felt so weak he could scarcely walk on board. Jones came forward to meet him. "Say, you ain't been drinking, have you?" he demanded, as he saw our hero stagger. "No, I don't drink," answered Randy. "I've been knocked down and robbed." And sitting down on a bench he told his story to the other deckhand, and let Jones feel of the lump on his head. "I was going to warn you when you went ashore, but I thought you'd be wise enough to keep out of trouble. It's a shame." "They told me it wouldn't do any good to tell the police." "I am afraid not. Such things happen pretty often in that kind of a neighborhood."