"Hand that paper over unless you want to give me the trouble of searching you!" ordered Tom firmly. "If I have to, I'll tear every stitch of your clothing off, to see if it's hidden under the lining somewhere. Do you hear what I'm saying?"
By degrees comprehension took the place of bewilderment on the man's face. He evidently realized that it was of little use trying to escape such a determined pursuer who could follow him even into the heart of hostile territory, and aboard an airplane at that. His courage deserted him, and he was ready to raise the white flag of surrender.
"I—I—haven't got—" he stammered.
"No nonsense, Tuessig! I want what you stole from my father. Hand it over, or I'll—" and Tom made a threatening gesture.
Adolph Tuessig shrank back. Evidently he was a coward at heart
"Yes, I have it here, so there is no need of your doing me any more bodily harm," he cried and gave a deep groan. "I'm bruised all over as it is, and may have received my death blow from this smash-up you drove me into."
"The paper first," Tom continued sternly. "After I have it in my hands I'll take a look at your hurts, and do anything I can to relieve your pain. Make haste, for we have yet far to go to get back home safely."
