His helpless body was instantly dragged into the corner and a hurried consultation held.
“We’ve got to fix up that other chap,” said Tony grimly. “Now his pal’s gone the fat’s in the fire.”
“No doubt about it, Tony,” agreed Phil. “We must silence both. Let us get out and wait near the door for the other fellow. We can leave this man for the present, for that crack you gave him will keep him quiet for a time.”
Tony chuckled.
“And he was the chap as was going to tie us up and whop us!” he said, with huge enjoyment. “He was going to give us a taste of the rope! He shall have some himself soon, but for the present the dose of stick will suit him.”
Shaking his club at the unconscious man, he followed Phil out of the carriage and closed the door. Both crawled beneath the cart till close to the niches down which the Russian must climb, and waited eagerly for his appearance. But there was not a sound above, and nothing but the certainty that he had ascended to the loft to convince them that he was there still.
“What has happened to him?” asked Phil. “Do you think he heard the noise below, and has escaped through the trap-door?”
“Not he,” Tony answered with assurance. “He’s up there, p’r’aps hiding, but most like dead asleep. Listen. Perhaps we’ll hear him.”
There was a minute’s silence, when both heard heavy snoring from the loft, and looked at one another, uncertain how to proceed.