“No. I knew that already. I was one of them myself.”
At this startling statement Jack stared. “I beg your pardon, sir?” he exclaimed.
“I was a member of that gang myself,” repeated Jack’s strange caller, again smiling broadly. “Don’t you think I look the part?” So saying, he pushed his hat back from his face.
Jack had no doubt of it. The small dark eyes were repellent with low cunning and greed. Instinctively he half turned to cast a glance toward the door. At once the smile disappeared, and the self-confessed law-breaker threw open his coat and significantly tapped the butt of a revolver. “No. You just sit still and listen,” he ordered sharply; but immediately again smiling, added, “though there needn’t be anything of this kind between two who are going to be good friends.
“Listen. What I called for was this: We want another man in the gang in place of Joe Corry—that is the man you caught.
“And we decided to invite you.”
Jack fairly caught his breath. “Why, you must be joking, or—”
“Or crazy, eh? Not quite. I was never more serious in my life. Listen!” The speaker leaned forward earnestly. “After your spoiling our little ‘ghost’ game here the railroad people would never look for us starting in again at the same place. Never in the world—would they? And likewise, after your causing the capture of Corry, they would never in the world suspect you of working with us. Do you see the point?
“And all you would have to do would be to keep your ears closed, and not hear any noises out in the freight-room at night.”
“And for doing that,” concluded the law-breaker, “we will give you a regular salary of $25 a month. We’ll send it by mail, or bank it for you at any bank you name, and no one will know where it comes from.