“So you’re the doctor--his doctor--that’s supposed to be in Europe, huh?” he sneered. “Oh, yes, we know old Mink--and now we know you. Give me that box, Somers; come, hand it over before I knock you flat, you low-down sneak!” Somers had at least the courage to put up a momentary objection to handing over the box. It may have saved him a little measure of temporary self-respect. But it did not save him the box. Like lightning Tom wrenched it from him and sent him sprawling upon the ground. “All right, Somers,” he said grimly. “Now, if you want to beat it you can do it. We came here to try and find that box and give it to the poor old fellow it belongs to----” “That’s just what I wanted it for,” said Somers. “Yes, well what have you been lying for, then? What did you start to run away for? What did you sneak out of my Ford and run away for? What did you walk away from that well for when there was somebody calling for help in it? Oh, I was some dub! Somers, you’re the biggest liar and the dirtiest low-down sneak I ever met in my life! Why, here in black and white is the proof that you forged somebody’s name. And the other matter about the automobile--goodness knows what you did there!” “We appreciate it that you didn’t take our Ford,” said Brent. “Honest to goodness, Somers,” said Tom earnestly, “when I think of that poor old codger out there, just getting hold of himself after his life being a blank all those years, and us waiting around here trying to find his money for him so we could give it to him and tell him about his old partner and his kid that’s in an orphan asylum; when I think of him wandering back here to his old home--why, Somers, I could almost shake hands with you for finding the box. You turned out to be the missing link in all this business--honest, I think some good fairy sent you here, with your lies about forestry and conservation! You’re all right, Somers, only you don’t get out of any of your scrapes with old Mink’s money--not unless you can take this box away from me. So you’re the young doctor that the poor old codger missed so much--oh, yes, you see we know all about it, we read the western papers. “Now, Doctor Slick Somers, this old patient of yours is going to show up. If he doesn’t show up here, he’s going to show up somewhere; he’ll turn up and the authorities will find him. And we’re going to see to it that he gets his money.” “We’re out for adventure,” said Brent. “Now,” said Tom, “maybe you don’t trust us, and we certainly don’t trust you. This money don’t belong to any of us. If you want to hang around and make sure the old man gets it, why, you can sleep in the woodshed if you want to. But maybe your name will get into the papers, and then the automobile people may get after you and the guy whose name you forged and---- Now, wouldn’t you say it was better just to beat it and let us take care of things? Just get into the Tuxedo road and----”