“In the first place, although Slim Johnson is a very young man, he is one of the cleverest gangsters outside Sing Sing. Secondly, if he didn’t have an A No. 1 organization of cutthroats and gunmen behind him, I’d have kidnapped that young gentleman long ago. But tell me,” he went on anxiously, “what are you fellows up there doing about my boy?”
“Just this: after it was arranged that I should come on here, Osceola elected himself a committee of one to locate Sanders’ hide-out, and to get his hands on Charlie. Parker decided to stay on the island to guard Deborah, for it seems that Jim is away most of the time on special duty for you, which he wouldn’t divulge.”
“And quite right, too,” murmured Mr. Evans. “Jim’s work is a most important factor—most important.”
“Well, it’s all Greek to me. And although you’re running this show, sir, and with all due apology, I must say it’s my opinion that you make a mistake in not putting more confidence in the people who are helping you. Look at me: Charlie blows in here and we beat it up to Maine as fast as my plane and good lead bullets will get us there. All kinds of hush stuff when we arrive, then you beat it off during the night, leaving us in a house that’s a warren of secret passages and what not—and to make it worse, you leave us absolutely no instructions. Consequently, one of us gets kidnapped, and the other all but loses his life, first by airgun bullets—and some airgun it must be to shoot that distance—and later, by drowning. Then I mistake the people on Pig Island for your enemies, make a fool of myself and darn near get kidnapped into the bargain. As a direct result, instead of being able to make myself useful in your interests around Clayton, I have to chase off down here to placate the chief of your enemies.”
“There’s a lot in what you say,” replied Mr. Evans. “But you must understand that this is an extremely serious affair—in which an enormous sum of money is involved.”
“Oh, you make me tired,” snapped Bill. “Why, I’ve had a sweet chance to sell you out—lock, stock and barrel. Money, money, money—that’s all you so-called big business men think of—and at that, you’re the guys we have to thank for the depression. Is any amount of money worth Charlie’s life?”
“They wouldn’t dare—”
“They dared with poor little Charlie Lindbergh. Are you any better than our national hero?”
“But I don’t like the way you’re talking—”
“And I don’t care a tinker’s hoop what you like. You’re not paying me anything. Listen to me—just as soon as we can find Charlie for you, I’m through! You want those who are helping you to trust you and your judgment, yet you won’t trust them, and seem to have as little respect for human life as did the German High Command during the war!”