"But what about our money?" said Earl, coldly, thinking the broker might try to shift the responsibility of the affair.
"If you can find some reliable party known to us to identify you, I will pay the sum to you," was the answer. "But I've got to be sure of the identification this time—and you can't blame me for that," added the broker, with a short laugh.
"No, we can't blame you for that," repeated Earl, yet at the same time wondering who there was in that strange city who knew them.
"I don't know of any one here who knows us," put in Randy, reading his elder brother's thought. "I wish Uncle had sent the money in some other way."
"See here," put in the police official. "Since those swindlers had the letter that was lost up near where you come from, perhaps you know the men. Mr. Stone, can't you describe them?"
As well as he was able the broker did so. But the description was so indefinite that both Earl and Randy shook their heads.
"I know a dozen men who look a good deal like that description," said the older brother. "It's possible they were lumbermen like ourselves."
"Yes, they did look like lumbermen," replied Mr. Stone. "That is why I was not so particular about their identification."
For another half hour the matter was talked over,
