Pete heard him through to the end; then, with some show of interest, he asked:
"Do I understand you to say that that slippery Jew, Jake Klinkhammer, has really passed in his checks at last?"
"Yes, poor Jake got something in his stomach that he couldn't very well digest, and so he was obliged to throw up the sponge."
"The deuce! whose turn will it be next, I wonder? Do you know, Barney, they're after me, hot and heavy, for that little job in the Stony Creek railway station?"
"They are! But they can't fasten anything on to you."
"I don't know about that; they've got half a dozen men on my track, and if they can't find any evidence against me, they'll manufacture some. Leave the hounds alone for that."
"Is it really so bad, Pete?"
"You just bet it is. And, by the way, cap'n, one thing I came out to say is, that for your sake, as well as my own, I daresn't help you land the liquor or store it away to-night."
"Thunder!" exclaimed the captain, "what'll I do, then?"
"I've got two friends—safe fellows, who are working in the quarry as a blind; they'll help you, and do whatever I could do myself."