"Do you really? It'll rather wreck your prospects in this town. I mean to say, I shan't be staying very much longer, I expect."
"Oh, rats to this town, I'm sick of it anyway. But why are you going to leave just when you're going to get a rise?"
"How do you know I am going to get a rise?"
"Donovan and Jenkins were in here last night, and I gathered so from their remarks."
"Aha! Mr Donovan, was he? Come on down to old Donovan's pub and have a drink and see me chaff him, he can't for the life of him make out what's become of the hired assassin he sent to shoot me. Do you know, I often wonder what would become of 'em if they brought off the event."
Carstairs was moody. "Why are you going to leave just when your mater's got settled?"
"Dear boy, I want more money. The maximum of this job is about £500 or £600 per annum. You don't imagine that's going to hold me! I want a rise simply as a testimonial, don't you see? London's my place! One of the big London jobs is what I'm after. Get your hat and come on down to old Donovan's pub, and I'll tell you all the news about your people as we go."
Silently Carstairs got his hat and they went down the street together.
"Well, I had a jolly good time," Darwen started. "One of your brothers was home—Stanley. He's going in for the law, isn't he?"
"Yes; been going in for it a long time now."