A long silence followed.
“When did that chap say he would leave?”
“To-night.”
Another silence.
“I suppose,” said Clark, “we can find out how he goes?”
“I suppose so,” returned Potts, gloomily.
“Somebody might go with him or follow him,” said Clark, darkly.
Potts looked at him. The two exchanged glances of intelligence.
“You see, you pay your money, and get your papers back. It would be foolish to let this man get away with so much money. One hundred and two thousand five hundred isn’t to be picked up every day. Let us pick it up this time, or try to. I can drop down to the inn this evening, and see the cut of the man. I don’t like what he said about me. I call it backbiting.”
“You take a proper view of the matter,” said Potts. “He’s dangerous. He’ll be down on you next. What I don’t like about him is his cold-bloodedness.”