"I compliment you on your knowledge of poetry, Mr. Travers. I didn't think it was in you."
Travers looked complimented.
"I've had an education, colonel," he said complacently, "though circumstances have been against me for the last four years. As for my friend Brandon, he's one you can rely upon."
"I shall probably require his services as well as yours," said Johnson. "Now let me proceed. You agree with me that bank capitalists are grasping monopolists, that they grind down the poor man, and live in luxury at the expense of the poor laborer."
"Just my notion, colonel!"
"And whatever we can get out of them is what they richly deserve to lose?"
"Just so!"
"Well and good! I see you agree with me. And now, friend Travers, I will tell you what I have in view, and why it is that I need the services of two gentlemen like you and your friend. The fact is"—here Johnson dropped the mask, being assured of the character of his listener—"there's a good haul to be made within three days—a haul which, if successful, will make all three of us easy in our circumstances for years to come."
"Go ahead, colonel. I'm with you, and my friend Brandon, too. I'll answer for him. We both need a lift mightily."