"Yes, it's a cinch we get cheated out of our share of the money," argued Jack, with an angry glare in the direction of the unconscious Hank.
"Beggars can't be choosers," argued Bill. "You know, as well as I do, that if we are implicated in this affair it means serious trouble. Our parents wouldn't stand for it, and we should be disgraced. By doing it this way we get some of the proceeds—I admit not our fair share but what's to be done?"
"Well, I guess you are right, Bill," assented Jack, with a shrug. "It's go ahead now; we've gone too far to draw back."
"That's the line of talk," grinned Bill, "and when we've each got fifty dollars in our pockets, silenced Hank with a golden gag and had our revenge on those kids, we'll be able to talk over future plans. I'm sick of school. I hate the idea of going back there. I've half a mind to strike out for the West anyway."
"Do you think I could get a job on your cousin's ranch?" asked Jack.
"I don't doubt it a bit," rejoined Bill. "You're a good, husky chap, and brawn and muscle is what they need in the West."
"Yes, I'm husky, all right," conceded Jack modestly. "Sometimes I think that I don't get full opportunities to expand here in this wretched country hole."
"No, the West is the place," agreed Bill, with an inward smile, "as the newspapers say—one can expand with the country out there."
Their conversation was broken in upon by Sam, who demanded in no very gentle tones:
"Well, who's going ashore? I'm off."