“Maybe he’s come down to pay us off,” suggested Gypsy Joe smoothly. “Dere’s nothin’ slow about de Rat.”
“I’ll tell you,” said Billy Kane quietly. He took his knife from his pocket, and coolly opened it; then nonchalantly, but with a swift, lithe movement, stooped and cut the cords that bound the girl’s wrists. He pressed the knife into her hand—she needed no further hint that she could free her own ankles—and, as he straightened up again, his eyes swept the wall by the door. Yes, they were there—two electric-light switches. He faced the trio again.
“Well, wot do youse know about dat!” observed Clarkie Munn, with an unpleasant grin.
“I’ll tell you, Clarkie,” Billy Kane lied calmly. “I’m leery that somebody’s split, and I’m afraid the police know too much. Understand? I’m not taking any chances, and the game’s off—that’s all.”
The Cherub’s bland, blue eyes seemed to shade a darker hue.
“Dat’s all right, den,” said the Cherub sweetly. “But wot about us? Mabbe youse can call de game off if youse likes, ’cause it’s yer game, but where does we come in? ’Tain’t our fault de job’s crimped—dat’s up to youse. Does we get paid or not?”
“Dat’s de talk, Cherub!” applauded Clarkie Munn, an undisguised snarl in his voice.
Billy Kane shrugged his shoulders.
“Who said you wouldn’t get paid?” he demanded roughly. “We’ll attend to that when we get out of here. Do you want to hang around and get pinched?”
“No,” said the Cherub, and smiled. “No, we don’t want to get pinched—an’ we ain’t worryin’ none about it either, not about gettin’ pinched down here. It’s a cinch youse wouldn’t have risked comin’ here if de bulls had been followin’ a yard behind. We knows youse too well fer dat, Bundy! Get me? An’ youse ain’t comin’ across when youse gets out of here, youse are comin’ across right now! An’ youse”—he whirled suddenly on the girl, who had risen to her feet and was backing toward the door—“youse stand where youse are! I ain’t sure we are through wid youse yet, no matter wot Bundy says—see?” He jerked his head at his two companions, though his eyes never for an instant left Billy Kane’s face. “Wot about it, fellers? If she gets out of here she knows too much, an’ we got to fade away outer New York anyway, whether de bulls are on now or not. An’ dat takes de coin—all de coin we can get. Well, de Rat always carries a wad, but if we pinches it an’ lets de Rat loose afterwards he’s got a bunch behind him dat’ll nose us out where de bulls couldn’t, an’ we’ll get ours. Dat’s de size of it. Do we play fer table stakes, or hedge de bets?”