"Tut, tut, man; don't talk like a fool. I tell you there is no danger. You, in company with a mob of others, are to attack this man's house. When he makes his appearance, as he will be sure to do, shoot him down."
"Good God! squire," said McCloskey, his face growing pale at the prospect of what was required of him, "you talk of murder as if it was mere play!"
"And still, I never murdered any one," rejoined Mr. Stevens, significantly; "come, come—put your scruples in your pocket, and make up your mind to go through with it like a man. When the thing is done, you shall have five thousand dollars in hard cash, and you can go with it where you please. Now, what do you think of that?"
"Ah, squire, the money's a great timptation! but it's an awful job."
"No worse than you did for nothing," replied Mr. Stevens.
"But that was in a fair fight, and in hot blood; it isn't like planning to kill a man, squire."
"Do you call it a fair fight when you steal up behind a man, and break his skull with a slung shot?" asked Mr. Stevens.
McCloskey was unable to answer this, and sat moodily regarding his tempter.
"Come, make up your mind to it—you might as well," resumed Mr. Stevens, in a coaxing tone.
"Ye seem bent on not giving it up, and I suppose I'll have to do it," replied McCloskey, reluctantly; "but what has the man done to ye's, squire, that you're so down upon him?"