“Sorry!” he exclaimed. “Why, pard, this isn’t a time to be sorry about anything! You’ve still got the colonel’s gold in your safe, and I’m the happiest stray in all New York! You hear that, Matt?” and he whirled and caught his chum by both hands. “It was a close shave, but that message of ours did the trick! The gold’s here, and Tibbits has been done--done to a turn! If there weren’t so many people around, I’d yell.”