'
"`Well,' I said, `go and find it.'
"The hobo jerked out his limp hands in a sort of hopeless
gesture.
"`Now, Governor,' he whimpered, `what good would it do me to find
them plates?'
"`You'd get five thousand dollars,' I said.
"`I'd git kicked into the discard by the first cop that got to
me,' he answered, `that's what I'd git.'
"The creature's dirty, unshaved jowls began to shake, and his
voice became wholly a whimper.
"`I've got a line on this thing, Governor, sure as there's a
hell. That banker man was viewin' the layout. I've thought it
all over, an' this is the way it would be. They're afraid of the
border an' they're afraid of the customhouses, so they runs the
loot down here in an automobile, hides it up about the Inlet, and
plans to go out with it to one of them fruit steamers passing on
the way to Tampico. They'd have them plates bundled up in a
sailor's chest most like.
"`Now, Governor, you'd say why ain't they already done it? An'
I'd answer, the main guy - this banker man - didn't know the
automobile had got here until he sent me to look, and there ain't
been no ship along since then .
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