"He'd better," muttered Tisdale, fiercely. "He'll be a dead Joe if he attempts to speak—don't let him forget that."
"That's all very true, Rube," replied the stock broker, "but all the same his arrest is mighty bad for us. He's the first of our gang who ever fell into the hands of the law. When one goes, all goes—that's the old saying, you know."
"Then so much the more reason why we should succeed to-night. I tell you, Lije, as I told you yesterday. It would be healthier for us to leave town for awhile."
"Yes, or to put Joe Dutton where he can't do us any harm," replied Callister, in a fierce whisper.
"What! you wouldn't——"
"Wouldn't I? Well, never mind. Let's attend to the business we have in hand. Rube, old Mansfield's money is in this house. You know how the will reads. If Frank can be convicted of crime before he is old enough to inherit, which will now be in a very short time, the money comes to me in a regular course, and the parchment containing the secret of its hiding-place would have been delivered into my hand."
"Exactly. And not satisfied with the job you put upon the boy, you must rope me into a bank robbery, where all we get is five thousand for our pains. You must have that parchment, and this is the result."
"The result would have been quite different if you had managed to hold on to it instead of dropping it in the street," replied Callister, crossly. "That's where the folly comes in. But come, we've wasted time enough in talking. Let us go up-stairs to the old man's chamber. I've an idea that the treasure is hidden somewhere about the hearth."
He picked up the lantern and began to ascend the broad staircase leading to the rooms above.
"So you've thought twenty times before, but could never find it," growled Tisdale, following. "Didn't you examine this blessed old rookery from garret to cellar, not over a year ago?"