“Oh,” said Mamma, “you’ll finish the job in the drink?”
“I’ll finish with the drink but I’ll begin with this.” And he poised the naked dagger above Mamma’s head with a gesture full of significance.
“But the other,” said Papa, with nervous eagerness; “what shall we do with him?”
“The other,” replied Franz, slowly putting away his knife, “we will leave here.”
“But—” objected Papa.
“Are ye a pack o’ fools after all?” snarled Franz. “A dead cop’ll make us more trouble than a livin’ one. Ye kin kill ten ordinary mortals an’ be safer than if ye kill one cop. Kill ten men, they detail a squad to hunt ye up mebby. Kill one peeler, an’ you’ve got the whole police force agin ye. No, sir; we bring him out o’ that closet, and leave him ter take his chances. Before morning, we’ll be where he can’t track us; and somebody’ll let him loose by to-morrow. He’ll have plenty o’ time to meditate, and mebby it’ll do him good.”
There was a look of dissatisfaction in Mamma’s eyes; and Papa’s assent was feeble. But already this strong-willed ruffian had gained an ascendency over them, and his promptitude in taking Nance so completely off their hands, assured them that it would not be well to cross him.
Nevertheless, as they made their preparations for a midnight flitting, Papa and Mamma, unseen by Franz, exchanged more than one significant glance.