I want to catch that train over there that's about ready to pull out." He prodded sharply with the gun, and Casey heard a click which needed no explanation.
Casey fumbled for a minute inside his vest and glumly "forked over." Young Kenner inspected the folded bank notes, smiled and slipped the flat bundle inside his shirt.
"You're stronger on the bank roll than what yuh let on," he remarked contentedly.

"I don't stand to lose so much, after all.

Sixteen hundred, I make it.

What's in your pants pockets ?" Casey, still balefully silent, emptied first one pocket and then the other into Kenner's cupped palm.

With heavy sarcasm he felt in his watch pocket and produced a nickel slipped there after paying street-car fare.