“That’s right,” agreed Ditson quickly. “If you think to get out of this business by turning State’s evidence, we’ll swear we were not in earnest when we suggested you should run that boat down. We’ll say we were only joking. We’ll deny we ever gave you a cent of money for that piece of work.”
“Now you’d better hold up right where you are,” growled the man, with an intonation of disgust. “I’m no fool.”
“I don’t know about that,” muttered Lynch. “If I’d been in your place, twenty-five dollars never would have tempted me to run down a rowboat containing two persons.”
“You heard the threat of the chap who escaped,” said Ditson. “He’s the kind of a fellow to make good. He talks a whole lot, but he means what he says. You want to stand on your guard all the while. Don’t let any one pump you. Of course you’ll be questioned about the affair.”
“I don’t have to have no advice from youngsters like you,” growled Berger, as he thrust the money deep into a safe pocket. “You take care of yourselves, and I’ll take care of myself. You want to look out that you don’t get tripped up. I reckon you’d better report this business to the authorities. I’m going to see the harbor master myself. Good night.”
Silently they mounted the steps from the float and paused, a shivering group, on the unlighted pier. The little launch, with lights set, swung out from the float and puffed away. Ditson stood gazing out over the inky harbor, a feeling of horror threatening to take possession of him and turn his blood to ice water.
“Bad! bad!” he muttered. “If I’d only thought what might happen! But I knew Merriwell could swim like a fish.”
“Oh, cut that out!” growled Mike. “It’s no use getting sloppy now. What I want is a drink, and I want it right away.”
Du Boise buttoned his light overcoat and shrugged his shoulders.
“I need a bracer myself,” he said. “Let’s get one quick.”