'If you're the one?' inquired Craig.
'Others must go too,' replied Rust; 'they must.'
Craig gnawed his lip.
'If Enoch goes, he goes alone,' continued Rust. 'He must be out of my way; he knows too much.'
The men exchanged looks; but the larger of the two seemed to leave all the speaking to the other, merely listening with great attention, and occasionally favoring his comrade with a glance, whenever it seemed necessary.
'I have no time to stay now,' said Rust, turning to Craig: 'I've told you enough. Grosket is in my way. I must be rid of him.'
Craig put his finger to his throat, and deliberately drew it across it. 'You're a ticklish man to deal with, Mr. Rust. Is that what you mean?' said he.
'I say I must be rid of him,' replied Rust, fiercely. 'Are you deaf? Are your brains addled? Rid of him—rid of him—RID of him!' exclaimed he, advancing, and hissing the words in the man's ear, while there was something in his look and manner that caused even the bold villain he addressed to draw back and assume a somewhat defensive attitude. 'Do you understand me now? Law won't do what I want. I prescribe no mode; but Enoch Grosket must be out of my path.'
'You're growing red-hot, my master,' said the man, bluntly. 'But I must have what you want spoken out. Shall he be knocked on the head?'
'Hasn't he committed a murder, burnt a house, stolen, embezzled? I think I've heard of his having done something of the kind,' said Rust, earnestly.