“They will never know what became of you,” declared Linton. “You will disappear from the face of the earth, and your fate will remain a mystery.”
“Ziz ees wasting time!” cried Durant. “Feenish him!”
It seemed that he was on the point of shooting the helpless man through the head, but Glanworth caught his hand and thrust the muzzle of the revolver aside.
“No blood!” came hoarsely from the young man’s lips. “Blood leaves stains, and stains are dangerous.”
“Who ees ’fraid!” snarled the little Frenchman.
“Easy!” came sharply from Linton. “Do not lose your head, Durant. Why should we do the job when we have one here who will attend to that? Leave him with Luptus.”
“That’s right,” came quickly from Glanworth. “I do not want to see it. Leave him with Luptus. His hands will finish the job.”
“Go, get out!” snarled the fiery little anarchist. “Your blood ees made of water! I want to stay and see ze man die!”
“Well, I do not care about that,” came huskily from Linton, whose face was pale. “This business is somewhat out of my line, but I believe the job must be done for the welfare of the cause.”
“You go!” grated Durant. “Both leave me! I will see zat Luptus do ze job. Go now!”