"He may be asleep."
"We can soon make sure. Ah, there! Turner! Turner!"
Once more a series of blows descended upon the wooden panel.
"Does that convince you, Cronin?"
"Y—e—s," owned Cronin reluctantly. "I guess he's gone."
"Of course he's gone! Come, brace up, can't you?" urged his companion. "Where's your backbone?"
"I'm not afraid."
"Tell that to the marines! You're timid and jumpy as a girl. How are we ever to put this thing over if you don't pull yourself together? I might as well have a baby to help me," sneered the gruff voice.
"Don't be so hard on me, Alf," whined his comrade. "I ain't done nothin'. Ain't I right here and ready?"
"You're here, all right," snarled the first speaker, "but whether you're ready or not is another matter. Now I'm going to give you a last chance to pull out. Do you want to go ahead or don't you? It's no good for us to be laying plans if you are going to be weak-kneed at the end and balk at carrying them out. Do you mean to stand by me and see this thing to a finish or don't you?"