Bodney did not stay to reply. His fever was now so strong that it would have taken two giants to hold him. He fought his way through the crowd, and, panting, rushed into the poker room. They greeted him with the complimentary encouragement usually poured out upon the arrival of the "sucker." "He'll make you look at your hole card." "Cash my chips." "None of us got any show now." It was nearly dinner time when Bodney sat down to the game, and when the meal was announced he was winner. Goyle came in and sat beside him at the dinner table. "The scheme I spoke to you about is a sure road to fortune," he said, in a low tone.
"Bank robbery?" Bodney asked, smiling with the brightness of a winner.
"No, it's not the robbery of the robbers. It is less dangerous and more profitable—almost legitimate."
"Almost!"
"Yes—but full of sauce."
"Don't you think you'd better tell me what it is?"
"Not now. I want to see you alone—tomorrow. In the meantime make up your mind."
"How can I make up my mind to do something that hasn't been proposed?"
"Make up your mind to agree to my plan no matter what it may be. We are going to ride in carriages."
"Or in a police van, which?" said Bodney, smiling.