“And now all we’ve got to do is to walk in and help ourselves,” said Mudgett.
“That’s all,” winked Tim Bunker. “It’s almost a shame it’s so easy.”
The young rascal chuckled and thumped Luke on the back.
“Brace up,” he cried to Mr. Maslin’s graceless son. “You’re one of us now in this scheme, and Mudgett won’t hear of you backin’ out at the last minit.”
“But I don’t want nothing to do with it,” protested Luke.
“That doesn’t make no matter of difference whether you want to or not,” said Mudgett, in a threatening voice. “You’re in this thing right up to your neck, for you delivered that letter to Fairclough himself, and he won’t forget that when he comes back and finds out what happened while he was away. You can’t go back to Cobham’s without the certainty of being arrested on sight.”
The bearded man stated the case with such brutal frankness that Luke turned white and began to whimper.
“Shut up, will you!” thundered Mudgett, reaching over and grabbing Luke by the collar. “Stop your snivelling, or I’ll break every bone in your body.”
The storekeeper’s son was frightened into silence.
“When do we start, Mudgett?” asked Bunker, fishing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it.