Chapter 24—Two Hundred Dollars a Day
A fetish for the Titburys? Certainly they wanted it; and if it were only the end of the rope which hanged this brigand, Bill Arrol, it would have been welcome. But, as the magistrate of Great Salt Lake City had said, he would have to be caught before he was hanged, and it did not look as though that would happen very soon.
Assuredly the fetish which would make Hermann Titbury win the game would not have been dear at the three thousand dollars he had been robbed of at the Cheap Hotel. But meanwhile the blue flag did not possess a cent, and furious and no less disappointed at the ironical replies of the sheriff, he left the police station to rejoin Mrs. Titbury.
“Well, Hermann,” she asked, “this rascal, this wretch of an Inglis?”
“His name is not Ingl
