“No.”
“Are you not afraid that we will kill you?”
“You have power to do it.”
“Don’t you want to live?”
“Yes. Life is sweet to a boy of sixteen.”
“Then why don’t you write?”
“Because I think it would be taking a mean advantage of Mr. Pettigrew.”
“You are a fool. Roderick, what shall we do with him?”
“Tell him simply to write that he is in our hands.”
“Well thought of. Boy, will you do that?”