Neither one of us knew enough about safes to feel sure of opening one even when we had the numbers. Smiler knew a chap doing time in the penitentiary who knew all about safes. The stir was only a mile out of the city and we decided to go up and get some expert advice.

Next day we visited the expert at the stir, who gladly gave us instructions and declared himself in with any money we got.

That night Smiler opened the box as easily as if it belonged to him and locked it again. We got but a few hundred dollars where we expected several thousands. The new owners had no bankroll, just opened up on a shoestring, hoping to get off lucky and win. The next morning they accused each other of the theft, almost fought with pistols, and dissolved partnership, calling each other thieves.

The money was split three ways. The expert at the stir took his bit with bad grace, intimating that we got more than we were dividing, and that we were thieves. As we were leaving, Smiler said: “Goodbye, Shorty. Everything’s all right now, ain’t it?”