"I doubt that," smiled Minot. "Jack, I guess that about concludes our business with the Mail." He turned to Howe and O'Neill. "You boys look me up at the De la Pax. I want to wish you bon voyage when you start north. For the present—good-by."
And he and Paddock departed.
"You're a fine pair," snarled Gonzale, when the door had closed. "A fine pair to take my salary money, and then stand by and see me strangled."
"You're not strangled yet," said O'Neill. He came slowly toward his employer, like a cat stalking a bird. "Did you get my emphasis on the word yet?"
Gonzale paled beneath his lemon skin, and got behind a desk.
"Now, boys," he pleaded, "I didn't mean anything. I'll be frank with you—I have been a little indiscreet here. But that's all over now. It would be dangerous to try any more—er—deals at present. And I want you to stay on here until I can get new men in your places."
"Save your breath," said O'Neill through his teeth.
"Your work has been excellent—excellent," went on Gonzale hastily. "I feel I am not paying you enough. Stay on with me until your week is up. I will give you a hundred each when you go—and I give you my word I'll attempt nothing dangerous while you are here."
He retreated farther from O'Neill.
"Wait a minute, Bob," said Howe. "No blackmailing stunts while we stay?"