Tux joined O’Brien.
“Go ahead and take him,” O’Brien said, keeping his voice low. “You’re sure you can handle this, Tux? I don’t want any slipup.”
“That’s okay,” Tux said. “I’ll roll the barrel overboard. There’s plenty of water. It’ll be okay.”
“When Solly comes back, come over and call me. You’d better tell Solly you took Johnny ashore in the dinghy. I’ll keep him with me for an hour. Will that give you enough time?”
“Sure,” Tux said indifferently. “I’ll fix him as soon as you’re gone. There’s nothing to it. The barrel’s a big one. He’ll fit in it easily. I have plenty of cement. An hour’s fine.”
“Don’t use a gun, Tux. Someone may hear it from the waterfront.”
“I’ll use a knife.”
“Make a job of it,” O’Brien said, crossed the deck arid climbed down into the motorboat.
Solly cast off, started the engine and sent boat shooting away into the darkness.