"As dead as Potipher's wife!" was the answer, and the eyes of the handsome speaker flashed. "I don't want this girl to bother me any longer. A little grip like the sort you've got and a little twist of her pretty neck and it will be well done."
Roland Riggs drew back and looked at Merle with pretended horror.
"You can't mean that I am expected to silence the girl?" he exclaimed.
"I mean nothing else," was the answer. "I want her out of the way. She will prove nothing in your hands, Riggs. You're one of those agile men, and one little twist will get her out of my way. I'll make you rich for the job."
It was the coolest proposition he had ever heard, and Old Broadbrim felt a thrill sweep to his heart.
He looked at the man before him and saw that he was terribly in earnest.
"She won't be hard to find," said Merle. "She's bound to show up somewhere, and I'll get you relieved from guard duty if you will undertake the work."
Merle was looking Old Broadbrim squarely in the eye and his gaze seemed to transfix him like a lance.
"It's a bargain, eh?" he cried.
"I'll try," said Old Broadbrim.