“That’s neither here nor there,” interrupted Long John, with a sneer on his lips. “You are our ostensible leader. Why did you not bring back the bonds as well as the diamonds?”
“I was in the train,” said Rowton, speaking slowly, and raising his eyes until their full insolent light was fixed intensely upon Long John’s face; “I was in the train which ran from Madrid to Paris, and the bonds were there; but the work given me to do was dirty, defiling, dangerous. I thought I had done enough—in short, I did not execute my commission.”
“Your reason?” said Piper in a low voice.
“Quite simple, and I am not afraid to state it,” replied Rowton. “I saw plainly that were I to pursue the business in connection with those special bonds, although my confederate Spider might escape, my own life would be the forfeit.”
“Spider—by the way, where is Spider?” asked Scrivener.
“I left him in Spain—he is all right.”
“And so you feared your life would be the forfeit?” snarled Piper.
“Yes.”
“Well, and what of it, you dog?”