Gus heard him in the utmost bewilderment and terror.
"That would be stealing!" he cried. "Oh, I can't steal!"
"Hold your tongue!" cried Lucas, shaking him roughly; "it's not stealing—at least it is not your stealing, it's mine. The window is too small for me to get through, so you do it for me."
"Oh, I can't do it; don't ask me!" cried Gus.
"You can, and you shall," said Lucas. "What are you afraid of? The family's in the dining-room having dinner, the parlour-maid is waiting on them, the cook's busy in the kitchen, and the housemaid has gone for a holiday. No one will hear you; you can get all there is, and be back in five minutes. Go along with you."
"I can't!" cried Gus, falling on his knees before the man. "I can't do that! Please, Mr. Lucas, do not ask me! Indeed, I cannot steal!"
"There, what did I tell you?" said Jack, turning to his father. "There's no doing anything with a boy like that. I said he would spoil it all, and so he has."
"But he shall not spoil it!" cried Lucas fiercely. "I'll see to that. Gus, you go up that ladder and do as I tell you, or, as sure as I stand here, I'll blow your brains out. See—" and he drew out his revolver—"if you do not go at once, I'll fire. Now, are you going?"
The aspect of the man was so fierce, he looked so capable of executing his threat, that instinctively Gus shrank from him and turned towards the ladder. Jack pushed him on to the lowest rung, and feeling that the weapon was still pointed at him, Gus went up the ladder, closely followed by Jack.
"Go on, go on," said Lucas, "or I fire."