"Shoot," answered Kendric sharply. "What's the play, man?"
Again Barlow hesitated, plainly in doubt just how far Kendric might be in sympathy with him.
"It wouldn't make you mad to fill your pockets, Headlong, would it?" he asked. "Bulgin' full? And you wouldn't mind a scrap or two and a blow or two in the job, would you?"
"Watch your step, Twisty, old timer," said Kendric. "Rios has been talking revolution to you, has he? Sometimes an uprising down here is a nasty mess that it's easier to get into than out of again. And, if we get our hooks on the loot that brought us down here, why should we want to mix it with the federal government?"
Barlow began tugging at his forelock.
"I'm up a tree, Jim," he muttered at last. "Clean up a tree."
"Then look out you light on your feet instead of on your head when you decide to come down. It would be easy to make a mistake right now."
"Yes, easy; dead easy.—Old Headlong counseling caution!" Barlow laughed but with little genuine mirth.
"I want a straight talk with you, Twisty," said Kendric soberly. "I for one don't like the lay-out here and I'm going to break for the open. You and I have fallen among a pack of damned thieves, to draw it mild. It strikes me we'd better understand each other."
"Right!" cried Barlow eagerly. "Let's talk straight from the shoulder."