"You are certain you won't tell anybody of it?"
"Good land of Goshen! Ain't I as deep in the mud as you are? You don't imagine that I am going to split on myself? If the folks around here don't find out who shipped 'em till I tell 'em, they'll never find it out."
Joe rested his elbows on his knees and thought about it. Fifty dollars was a heap of money for him to make by one night's work, and he wished there had not been so much danger in it. Aside from Captain Nellis coming back, he wasn't so certain that he could make a prisoner of old Ben Watson. He was afraid that Ben might see through the plot and go to work and whip him and Samson both; then there would be the very mischief to pay. But fifty dollars! That was worth trying for.
"You see, I am down on everyone who bears that name," said Barlow, hitting the table a sounding whack with his fist. "His ole pap laid me up in ordinary when I might to-day have been the master of as fine a ship as ever sailed, and I have been waiting for an opportunity to get even with him; but he has gone off to sea, although I had no hand in sending him there—more's the pity—and so I must take revenge on somebody else."
"That Bob of his always was stuck up," said Joe.
"Did you ever see the like? I never did. He won't come near my house, although he knows that I used to be one of his father's best hands. And yet the ole feller had to go and pop me over when there wasn't no need of it."
"Well, let me out, and I'll go somewhere and think it over," said Joe. "There's most too much risk in it."
"Well, be in a hurry," said Barlow, "for you have got till dark to make up your mind. I wish I had two good legs, and I wouldn't ask anybody to go for me. I'd go myself, and be glad of the chance."
Barlow did not unlock the entrance which gave admission into the saloon, for he heard voices in there, but a side door, which opened into an alley; and Joe Lufkin, after sticking his head out and making sure that there was no one in sight, slipped out and took his way down the street.
"And so Barlow thinks I had better let that job out," said he, pulling off his hat and digging his fingers into his hair to stir up his ideas. "I just won't do it. Fifty dollars ain't a patching to what I could make if I could only get somebody to help me. And suppos'n I did have to go away—I guess I'd have money enough to last me all my lifetime. I'll just think about it. And now, what am I to do in regard to those two men? I tell you, there's a heap of risk in it; but fifty dollars! That's a power of money."