He is a born thief, I do believe, and ought to be treated just like one." Hugh, aroused by the sense of injustice, and a desire to turn the tables on the slippery Nick, even stepped forward to snatch up his cap, with the full intention of hurrying out to see if he could overtake the thief; and, if not, continuing on until he came to the office of the police force.

Then he stopped short with a gasp.
He had suddenly remembered something.

Into his mind rushed the details of a certain recent conversation in which he had indulged with his closest chum, Thad Stevens.

Again he saw the picture of that good priest of the story, looking so benignly upon the wretched Jean Valjean, brought into his presence with the valuable silver candlesticks and spoons found in his possession, which he kept insisting his late host had presented him with, however preposterous the claim seemed.
"Why, this is very nearly like that case, I declare!" ejaculated Hugh, almost overcome by the wonderful similarity, which seemed the more amazing because of the resolution he told Thad he had taken.
He dropped back into his seat, with the money still gripped in his hand.

He stared hard at it.