‘But that’s just what he was. He broke the safes open. Why, he was the principal. You’re wrong, Marston; I’m sure there’s no fear from any one. Turvey’s resigned and gone north out of the way, Brooks is as safe as a house, and Heckett daren’t open his mouth. Why, he could be lagged for half a dozen burglaries if I only held up my finger. You’re wrong, I’m sure.’
‘Perhaps I am. Let us put it another way. Suppose you were offered a thousand pounds to get Heckett out of the way, could you do it?’
‘Get him lagged, do you mean?’
‘No; once in custody he might round, with an idea of turning Queen’s evidence and getting off.’
‘Of course. What do you want me to do, then? You don’t want me to have him——’
Preene hesitated for a word.
Marston held up his hand deprecatingly.
‘No, not that. God forbid that I should have any man’s blood upon my head! But surely you can get him away—force him out of the country? A thousand if you do. Come!’ Preene sat for a moment or two in deep thought.
‘I’ll try it,’ he said presently; ‘but it will be bad for us if I fail. If he gets an idea we’re playing him false he’ll never leave us.’
‘But you must not fail!’ cried Marston hoarsely. ‘Come to me and say, “Josh Heckett’s gone, he’ll trouble us no more,” and I’ll give you a thousand pounds.’