Foster noticed the movement and the look of Cross, and without speaking, arose and stepped into a small adjoining room, took something from a case that stood upon an old dressing-table, and thrusting it hastily into his bosom, came back and resumed his 'Have you got it?'
'Got what, neighbor?'
'You know what, well enough—why, the deed. The trunk you may keep, but the deed can do you no good.'
'Nor you, either, neighbor; it is safe—safe enough. I have got it, and I mean to keep it.' And as he said this, he very deliberately drew a pistol from his breast, and laying his hand on the table, leaned back in his chair and looked at the pretty plaything. Cross eyed him keenly, glancing from the pistol, which he saw was cocked, to the calm and almost unmeaning countenance of Foster.
'What do you mean to do about this?'
'I don't know exactly, neighbor; but at present I shall keep it. Something may turn up, you know—and to save a great deal of talk, as it is getting late, matters must stand thus: I have obtained possession of this at some risk; you agreed to pay me well, you know, if the job succeeded. Go on then—slash away at the timber; cut down and sell off as fast as you can—no one can hinder you—hand over half you get to me, and all will go smoothly enough. Do you agree to that?'
Cross knew that Foster was a great villain, but he had never calculated upon the chance of thus getting into his power; he knew now that he was resolved upon a desperate course.
'I suppose I shall be sued as soon as I begin to cut.'
'No fear from that quarter. Rutherford is down, and has no means to contend with; his creditors will get picking enough to satisfy themselves out of his other property; and no lawyer will undertake the job, on his own risk, without more show of a title than he can now claim.'
'Well, if they do prosecute, you agree to see to it?'