Gunson left us then, as if on purpose to give us an opportunity to talk about him; and as soon as he was out of hearing, Esau began by wiping the perspiration from his forehead with the back of first one hand, then with the other.
“It’s o’ no use,” he said in a low, hoarse voice; “we shan’t get rid o’ that chap till he has had his wicked way of us.”
I was puzzled by Gunson’s acts, but all the same, I could not help laughing at Esau’s comically dismal manner.
“Why, what idea have you got in your head now?” I cried.
“Him!” whispered Esau, in a tragic way. “I don’t quite see through it all, but I do through some of it. Look here, Mr Gordon, sir, you mark my words, he’s one of that gang we met at ’Frisco, only he plays the respectable game. He’d got me into their hands, and had me robbed, and then he was going to rob you, only I turned up just in time to save you.”
“Look here, Esau,” I said angrily; “if you talk any more nonsense like that I’ll kick you.”
“All right: kick away,” he said—“I won’t mind; but I’m not going to see you served as I was without saying a word.”
“What you said was ridiculous.”
“It was ridiklus for me to be served as I was, p’r’aps, but never mind; you’ll see.”
“I tell you what you say is absurd.”