“What do you know about the job?” I asked suspiciously.
“Only what I've been told,” he answered.
“And that is—”
“That it's a job for silence, secrecy, and—”
“Spondulicks,” said Dicky with a laugh, as the other hesitated for a word.
“Just so,” said the man.
“And what else?” I continued, pressing him firmly.
“Well,” he admitted hoarsely, “I learned as how there was to be a change of place to-night, and I might be needed.”
I looked at him inquiringly. Perhaps I was on the threshold of knowledge of this cursed business from the mouth of the enemy.
“I heard as how the boy was to be put in a safer place,” he said, wagging his head with affected gravity.