"I hope you may, my lad, for your sake," cried the Resurrection Man. "At all events the five quids will keep you from starving for the next two months to come; so mind and be punctual this evening at nine."
"I shall not fail," answered Holford; and with these words he departed.
"Well, blow me, if I can make out now what you're up to," exclaimed the Cracksman, as soon as he and his companion in infamy were alone together.
"You never thought that I should be fool enough to give him five coolers for doing nothing but humbug us?" said the Resurrection Man. "No—no: catch a weasel asleep—but not Tony Tidkins! Don't you see that he has been making fools of us? I remember what a devil of a hurry he was in to get me away from the palace, when I lighted upon him in the pantry, and, altogether, I am convinced he has been doing his best to stall us off from the business."
"So I think," said the Cracksman.
"Well," resumed the Resurrection Man, "we'll just try what a few days of the pit under the staircase in my crib will do for him. I have mended up the hole that opens into the saw-pit next door; and there is no chance of his escaping. We must make him drink a glass at the Dark House, and drug the grog well, and we needn't fear about being able to get him up into my street."
"Ah! now I understand you," observed the Cracksman: "only see what it is to have a head like your'n. The pit will soon make him tell us the real truth."
"And if not—if he remains obstinate—" mused the Resurrection Man, aloud;—"why—in that case—"
"We shall know what to do with him," added the Cracksman.
And the two miscreants exchanged glances of horrible significancy.