"Then it'll be just too bad for him. won't it?" asked the other candidly. He folded his arms. "Now you're a nice fellow and I like you. There's nothing personal in it. But I've got to look out for myself… Oh, and don't try to start anything either," he suggested, as Warren suddenly got to his feet. "You start any funny business, and I may not get my testimonial, but the story of T. G. Warpus's brief movie stardom is going to be all over the world as fast as I can broadcast it. Get me? In fact, old man," said Mr. Woodcock, trying to keep his confidential suavity, but breathing a little hard now, "if I don't get some assurance before we leave this boat that T. G. Warpus is a right guy who can take his medicine, I might get indiscreet when "I'd had a drink too many in the bar."
"You wouldn't do that!" said Peggy.
There was a long silence. Woodcock had turned away to stare past the curtain at the sea, his hand fluttering at his bony chin. The hand dropped and he turned round.
"All right, lady," he said in a rather different voice. "I suppose you win there. No, I guess I wouldn't." He addressed Warren fiercely. "I'm not a crook. I just got mad for a minute, that was all. At least you don't have to worry about that part of it. I may try to pull some fast ones, but I'm not a lousy blackmailer. I've made you a straight proposition, and it stands. Come on, now; I apologise. What about it?"
Warren, slowly hammering his fist on one knee, said nothing. He looked at Peggy. He looked round at Henry Morgan. Morgan said:
"I'm glad you said that, Mr. Woodcock."
"Said what? Oh, about not being a crook? Thanks," the other answered bitterly, "for nothing, I'm not one of those smooth boys who can scare you into doing anything, only they call it successful salesmanship… Why?"
"For instance," said Morgan, trying to keep his voice steady. He had an idea, and he only prayed that he would not bungle it. "For instance, would you like to be tried as accessory after the fact in a murder?"
"Oh, cut it," said Woodcock. "I've been wondering when the bluff would start."
All the same, his pale blue eyes briefly flashed sideways. He had got out a handkerchief and begun to mop his forehead as though he were tired of the whole business; but his bony hand stopped. The word "murder" comes rather startlingly in a business discussion. As the idea grew on Morgan — he thought that in a few minutes, if he kept his jugglery going with a steady hand, they might hear the Blind Barber's name — he had still more difficulty to keep from showing his nervous excitement. Easy, now. Easy does it…