"What do you want me to say?" returned the detective. "You have the best of the game just now, so it would seem."
"You're right—and we mean to keep it; eh, boys?"
"That's so," answered several.
"As a spy, he must suffer the fate of a spy," put in one of the number.
"Unless he consents to join us," added another.
"I'd never trust this bloody rascal," broke in Matlock Styles. "He's too sharp for us. He's a detective."
"If you don't mind telling, what is your business down here, Matlock Styles?" asked Adam Adams. He thought it best to put on a bold front, even with matters looking as black as they did.
"Ha! So you think you know me?" questioned the Englishman harshly.
"Of course, I know you."
"Well—it don't matter much—now," was the significant return.