FOUR days after this, mephistopheles with a small m and brutus with a little b sat again in the filthy little cabin where men hatch burglaries—but this time the conference wore an air of expectant triumph.
“Didn't I tell you?”
“You didn't do it easy.”
“No, I had almost to go on my knees to him.”
“He isn't worth so much trouble.”
“He is worth it ten times over. Look at this,” and the speaker produced a plan of the premises they were plotting against. “Could you have done this?”
“I don't say I could.”
“Could any man you know have done it? See here is every room and every door and window and passage put down, and what sort of keys and bolts and fastenings to each.”
“How came he to know so much; he never was in the house but twice.”
“A top-sawyer like him looks at everything with an eye to business. If he was in a church he'd twig the candlesticks and the fastenings, while the rest were mooning into the parson's face—he can't help it.”