“In a way, yes,” admitted the one still to be designated as Mr. X. “You are a mighty lucky and clever young man. Now we have met your first stipulation, what is the next?”
“The next,” stated Tom, “is that you must sign a paper which I shall draw up, admitting your share in all that has been done against me and agreeing that all persecutions shall cease.”
“Yes, that is no more than fair under the circumstances,” agreed Mr. X.
“But you won’t make that paper public—with our names on it, will you?” asked Mr. B.
“Not if you let me entirely alone,” promised Tom. “But I want it to protect myself. Hands off and that paper remains in my safe.”
“Draw it up and we’ll sign it,” agreed Mr. X, after a hasty conference in one corner with his colleagues. “But what about the men you have posted out in the woods? Will they come in here and arrest us?”
“Not unless I give the signal,” Tom answered. “It will not be given when you have signed that paper and I am allowed to walk out of here unmolested.”
“Oh, let him go! Let him go!” begged Mr. B. “He’ll have our watches and pocketbooks next! Let him go!”
Tom smiled grimly as he drew up the paper. He had the plotters entirely at his mercy. One after another they affixed their names to the document, and as he folded it and put it in his pocket, Mr. B said:
“Perhaps we can still talk business?”