“Go on,” cried Petersen.
“Mind, then, he ain’t a chap as ’ill stand much ’umbug.”
“He’s our prisoner, lad, and we’ve drawn the wasp’s sting. They haven’t even a knife to make a flourish with.”
“Listen again,” said Johnnie. “If Antonio’s going to die, we’ve all got to go up together.”
“Explain.”
“Which the magazine is connected with a hellectric wire. All that the hold man’s got to do is to touch a button, and——”
The men were for a moment paralysed with terror.
“Now the reason I didn’t ax for grog like is this: he might ha’ pized it, see!”
“Bravo! Johnnie, you’re good and wise.”
“All the same,” said the leader, “a glass all round would be precious handy.”