"And you, too, pard; don't forget that," retorted the grizzled villain grimly.
"I forget nothing," said Mr. Ruggles, giving his plug hat a rub across his left arm. "It isn't pleasant, to say the least, having matters turn out in this way. I wish to see you in regard to this Dyke Darrel." "I'm all ears, pard."
"He must never see Chicago again."
"Wal?" "I want you to see to it, Nick."
"I don't know about that," muttered the grosser villain. "I've shed 'bout enough blood, I reckin."
"It is for your own safety that I speak, Nick. No trace of that last work can ever reach me."
"Don't be too sure, Darl Ruggles. With Dyke Darrel on the trail, there's no knowing where it'll end. He's unearthed some o' the darkest work ever did in Chicago an' St. Louis. I WOULD breathe a durn sight more comfortable like if Dyke Darrel was under the sod."
"So would others."
"Yourself, fur instance."
"I won't deny it, Nick. I don't feel very comfortable with the young detective free. Between you and me, Nick, I believe we can make this the last trail Dyke Darrel ever follows. A thousand dollars to the man who takes the detective's scalp. That is worth winning, Nick."