"Why?"
"It is because of the girl Philippa. It is evident to Squelette and to me that he fears her. Why? I tell you frankly I do not know. If I knew——"
"Go on!"
Asticot turned his battered visage toward Warner. A leer stretched his swollen mouth.
"If we knew what he is afraid of, Squelette and I, we would make him sing!" he said coolly.
"Blackmail him?"
"Naturally."
"I understand. And if you ever had a chance to get behind my back with a thoroughly trustworthy knife—eh, Asticot?"
"No," said the ruffian naïvely, "I should be afraid to do that." He squinted silently at Warner out of his puffy eyes for a few moments, then, shaking his head: "No," he repeated; "never again. I should make of the job only a bungle; I should be too horribly afraid."
Warner got up from his chair.