“We’re not going to keep him ten minutes,” Mace replied. “I’m going to sign the order for his release.”
Horser’s speech was thick with drunken fury. “By —- I’ll see that you don’t!” he exclaimed.
Mace turned upon him angrily.
“You selfish fool!” he muttered. “You’re not in the thing, anyhow. If you think I’m going to risk my position for the sake of one little job you’re wrong. I shall go down myself and release him, with an apology.”
“He’ll have his revenge all the same,” Horser answered. “It’s too late now to funk the thing. They can’t budge you. We’ll see to that. We hold New York in our hands. Be a man, Mace, and run a little risk. It’s fifty thousand.”
Mace looked up at him curiously.
“What do you get out of it, Horser?”
Horser’s face hardened.
“Not one cent!” he declared fiercely. “Only if I fail it might be unpleasant for me next time I crossed.”
“I don’t know!” Mace declared weakly. “I don’t know what to do. It’s twelve hours, Horser, and the charge is ridiculous.”