"Would you believe it? For sticking up the bank—when I was out at my lunch! Did you ever hear such rot?"
"I don't know; if you're an innocent man, why not behave like one? Why hide—they're coming down!" I broke off, hearing them. "Stop where you are! You can never get out in time!"
In the candle-light his face gleamed very pale between the blotches of dust and dirt; but I fancied it brightened at my involuntary solicitude.
"You will help me?" he whispered eagerly. "For the sake of the good old school," he wheedled, playing still upon the soft spot I had discovered to him earlier in the night. It was a soft spot still. I remembered him in the fifteen and the eleven; then overcame the memory, and saw him for what he was now.
"Hush!" said I from the door. "I want to listen."
"Where are they now?"
"Looking on the next landing."
"Then now's my time!"
"Not it," said I, putting my back against the door.
He rose waist-high through the floor, his dark eyes blazing, his right hand thrust within his coat; and I knew what was in the hand I could not see.