"You, too, mister," he advised. "I'm sorry to, judge you're sickly, but I can't afford to play no favourites! Both hands is what I meant."
"Shoot," said the invalid, "if you like. The hand is paralyzed, even fear of death cannot move it. What do you want?"
"Why," drawled the bandit, "nothing in particular, only your cash. Shell out, if you please."
"One minute," the invalid interposed. "I guarantee you shall be amply satisfied. I give you my word—the word of Seneca Trine."
The eyes of the bandit widened. "No? Is that so? Seneca Trine, the railroad king? You ought to be able to pay something handsome"
"I'll pay you far more handsomely than you dream of if you'll do as I wish," Trine interrupted. "Do me the service I wish, and name your price, whatever it is, you shall have it! What's the life of a man worth in this neck of the woods?"
"How much you got?"
"I'll pay you ten thousand dollars for the life of the man I will name."
"Give me a thousand on account," said the other, "and a paper saying you'll pay me nineteen thousand more in exchange for one dead man, properly identified as the one you want, and your man's as good as dead this minute."
"Jimmy, find a thousand dollars for this gentle-
