The latter arrived first, and Jurgis found him examining the “swag.” There was a gold watch, for one thing, with a chain and locket; there was a silver pencil, and a matchbox, and a handful of small change, and finally a card-case. This last Duane opened feverishly⁠—there were letters and checks, and two theatre-tickets, and at last, in the back part, a wad of bills. He counted them⁠—there was a twenty, five tens, four fives, and three ones. Duane drew a long breath. “That lets us out!” he said.

After further examination, they burned the card-case and its contents, all but the bills, and likewise the picture of a little girl in the locket. Then Duane took the watch and trinkets downstairs, and came back with sixteen dollars. “The old scoundrel said the case was filled,” he said. “It’s a lie, but he knows I want the money.”

They divided up the spoils, and Jurgis got as his share fifty-five dollars and some change. He protested that it was too much, but the other had agreed to divide even. That was a good haul, he said, better than the average.