"That's right. Well, Jake, do your best. Mr. Black expects us to make a record on this job."
"I know he does. That old skinflint of a Larabee isn't going to pay very heavy, though. It was all we could do to squeeze this car out of him."
"Well, now we've got it we can do as we please. Think you can pull off anything?"
"I don't know. I can sneak up there and see how the land lays, anyhow. If we can't get the papers now we will have to some other time. But I think those lads will sleep well to-night—they had quite a day of it."
"I should say so! It was all I could do to drive this old car to keep up with 'em, and this isn't a slow machine, either. Well, if you're going, go ahead. I'll wait here."
"And be ready for a quick get-away in case—well, in case anything happens."
"Sure, I'll be on the job."
The figure in the road stole quietly toward the big touring car. As he came nearer he walked more and more slowly, and getting to within a short distance of the Last Word, he remained silent—listening.
"'All quiet along the Potomac,'" he quoted. "I guess I'll take a chance."
Again he stole forward.