“Looks so,” Chick tersely agreed.
Baldy Gammon, having broken the ice, came forth with his explanation.
“It’s like this, Sir Edud,” he began. “When I came over ’ere for this ’ere work, knowing as ’ow you soon would follow me, I ’ad in mind the werry man for a job o’ this kind. It don’t matter what ’is name be, nor would ’e like me to inform you.”
“I’m not at all anxious to know it.”
“I’ve knowed ’im for some time, Sir Edud, and I knowed ’e would ’ave the right ’elp and a ’ead to frame up the job in the right way. ’Ow well he did it, Sir Edud, goes without saying. We’ve got the man. We’ve got ’im where we wants ’im.”
“You know where I want him,” snarled Chadwick harshly. “You know what depends upon his death, and——”
“’Ear me out, Sir Edud,” interrupted Gammon pacifically. “It’s as ’ow we can turn ’im down at any moment.”
“Why in thunder hasn’t it been done, then? Why this needless delay? Delays are always dangerous.”
“It’s like this, Sir Edud,” Gammon proceeded. “This covey I speak of, ’im as run the whole blooming job, and who can be banked on to do ’is part when the time comes—this ’ere covey don’t feel dead sure of getting what’s coming to ’im.”
“The money you agreed upon? Is that what you mean?”