It was Paul Balcom.
It was in a clever, insinuating, affable manner that Paul approached the
real object of his visit. His appeal was cleverly worded, cleverly
presented. The sole object was to awaken the poor boatman's cupidity.
The sum mentioned, no less a sum than five thousand dollars, would mean
luxury to the poor man. And all for what? Simply to call up a stranger,
a Mr. Locke, to tell him that the boatman demanded more money since he
had telephoned before, that the cash was to be placed by him in an old
packing-case from which a stationary engine had been removed that
morning. It was just an exchange. That was all.
"Sure I'll do that," the boatman told Paul, and Paul, smiling craftily,
gave him his hand to seal the bargain.
The boatman went back to his quarters and again called Brent Rock,
making his new demands. Locke was tremendously indignant, but he wanted
the suit quickly to prevent its falling into unscrupulous hands. He
agreed and immediately started for the dock.
The boatman turned from his telephone and, picking up the suit, regarded
it curiously. "Five thousand dollars," he muttered.
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