“Find out what?” I inquired, regarding him steadily with narrowed eyes.
He raised his face and grinned.
“Have you got a lot of grit, Jerry?”
“That all depends,” I returned, on my guard. “What are you planning to do?” was my cautious inquiry. “Hold up a bank?”
“To-night,” he said, “you and I are going to visit the old mill.”
“That’s what you say.”
“We’ve got to do it,” he waggled.
“It’s a nice, easy way to commit suicide.”
“ ‘Ten and ten,’ ” he mused. “What does it mean? What is the spy doing? Has he found the hidden fortune yet?… I wish it was dark.”
“Too risky for me,” I told him.