“We might be seen!” The younger man’s terror was increasing every minute. “And he’s got dogs, too.”
“Blast the dogs! They’re all chained up anyway.”
“But how about them kids?”
“Aw, they’re all in bed by now. If you’d seen that bar of silver like I saw, you’d pull yer freight and get the job done.”
Blackie wanted to cry out and tell them that the hermit was poor, that he had no money or treasure at all, that the man must have seen him looking at his precious thunderbolt which he kept under the hearthstone. But his mouth was so dry with terror that he could not make a sound. He leaned against the tree for support, and the lantern on his belt clinked against the rough bark.
“What’s that?” The weak-chinned man jumped nervously about.
“Aw, yer jumpy as a cat to-night! ’Fraid of the dark, ain’t ya, Lew?”
“I thought I heard somebody in the bushes.”
“Not likely. If I thought there was, I’d pull out his windpipe. There ain’t nothin’ to be scared of. Now, will ya come, or will I have to do the job meself?”
“I—I’ll come, Reno.”