"What am I to do with it?" cried de Bosky. "Nearly three thousand dollars! Am I awake, Mr. Bramble?"
"We can't all be dreaming the same thing," said the bookseller, his fascinated gaze fixed on the bank notes.
"Ah-h!" exclaimed M. Mirabeau suddenly. "Try the other shoulder! There will be more. He would not have been so clumsy as to put it all on one side. He would have padded both shoulders alike."
And to the increased amazement of all of them, a similar packet was found in the left shoulder of the coat.
"What did I tell you!" cried the old Frenchman, triumphantly.
Included among the contents of the second bag, was a neatly folded sheet of writing-paper. De Bosky, with trembling fingers, spread it out, and holding it to the light, read in a low, halting manner:
"'Finder is keeper. This coat dont belong to me, and the money neither. It is nobodies buisness who they belonged to before. I put the money inside here becaus it is a place no one would ever look and I am taken a gamblers chanse on geting it back some day. Stranger things have happened. Something tells me that they are going to get me soon, and I dont want them to cop this stuff. It was hard earned. Mighty hard. I am hereby trusting to luck. I leave this coat with my neighber, Mr. Debosky, so in case they get me, they wont get it when they search my room. My neighber is an honest man. He dont know what I am and he dont know about this money. If anybody has to find