The reply was unexpected. Van Bleit paused irresolute, and stared with fallen countenance at this man who, not content with robbing him, demanded more. He began to fear that having tricked him out of the letters he would now foully murder him. The knowledge that, if so, he would in all probability hang for the crime was neither reassuring nor consoling.
Lawless read the letter, folded it, and placed it in his breast pocket. Then he looked up and met Van Bleit’s eye.
“What are you after?” Van Bleit asked dully. “You’ve got what you wanted... You let me go.”
The man he addressed smiled quietly, and taking his revolver from his pocket, covered the speaker with it.
“You don’t take me for quite such a fool, I hope?” he said. “All right, Tom! You’re off guard now. Just tie his hands again. I shan’t want him to use them further in my service.”
Van Bleit swung round as Hayhurst approached him, prepared to offer resistance.
“No, no?” he cried quickly. “I know what you’re after... None of that—no?”
“It’s not worth your while to resist,” Lawless returned curtly. “It’s hands behind or a bullet in your leg. I’m not particular which.”
Van Bleit faced round again and stared at him helplessly.
“You b-bully!” he stammered.