The mechanic began to think more favorably of the proposal, and asked one or two more questions. Finally he said: “Well, I don’t know but I might as well. Have you got money enough with you?” Chase took out a plethoric pocketbook, stuffed with bills, and called attention to it, smilingly: “We bankers always have to be well provided with money.” The mechanic looked respectfully at the owner of so much money. “I dare say it’s more than I could earn in a year,” he said. “I dare say you are right, my friend,” said the young man. “Very well. Count out the money, and the bond is yours.” The exchange was made, and both parties seemed well satisfied. Chase deposited the bond in an inside pocket and then, saying, carelessly, “I’ll go into the smoking car for a few minutes,” rose from his seat. But in the meantime Harry had returned to his own seat, and whispered a few words in the ear of the detective. The latter sharply scrutinized the young man who called himself Chase, and said, in a low voice: “I know him now. He’s an old offender. I thought there was something familiar in his appearance. I’ll look after you, my fine fellow.” He waited till the exchange had been effected, and the young man was on the point of leaving the car. Then he rose, and, hurrying forward, placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “A word with you, sir,” he said. “Really, sir, I don’t remember you.” “Perhaps not. I remember you. Do me the favor to return that bond to the man from whom you obtained it.” “It is mine. I have paid for it.” “With counterfeit money.” “Do you mean to insult me?” demanded Chase; but there was a sudden pallor on his face and a tremor in his voice. “That will do, Jimmy Neal. I told you I knew you. That is an old trick of yours.” “Who are you?” asked the detected swindler, in a faltering voice. “Pry, the detective.” “Will you let me go if I restore this bond?” “No; there is another case I must inquire into—that of a farmer from whom you bought some coupons a day or two since, paying him in the same worthless rags. Sit down here,” pointing to a vacant seat. “You may consider yourself under arrest.” Great was the consternation of the mechanic when he learned how nearly he had been swindled, and profuse were his thanks to Harry and the officer. “Be more prudent the next time,” said the latter, “and don’t sell bonds to a stranger in the cars again.” We may as well add that the traveling broker was duly tried, and sentenced to a term in State’s prison, and that enough good money was found on him to repay the farmer for the coupons he had imprudently parted with. Greatly to his satisfaction, Harry was intrusted with the office of acquainting Simon Jones with the pleasant fact that his money would be restored to him. CHAPTER XXIX — HARRY BECOMES A “BONDHOLDER.” When Harry entered the office of Mr. Wheeler, the lawyer was engaged with a client. He nodded pleasantly to our hero, and said: