Time and time again he tried to think matters out and decide what Melun's probable course of action would be. But time and time again he failed to work out any theory which satisfied him.
At last, when half an hour had gone by and the delay was becoming irksome, Westerham spoke up again.
“If you will call for silence,” he said to the bullet-headed man, “there is something else I would like to say.”
The bullet-headed man called at once for order.
“Gentlemen,” said Westerham, addressing the men for the third and last time that night, “will you allow me to range myself on your side? I really think I have proved myself sufficiently a man to warrant my asking this.
“I will not take your oath, but if you will take the word of a gentleman, I will pledge it that, come what may, I will never reveal to anyone what has taken place to-night.”
There was considerable grumbling at this, but the bullet-headed man forcibly expressed his favourable opinion.
“Look here, mates,” he cried, turning to the others, “I know a gentleman when I see one, and I know that this gentleman is to be trusted. If Melun wants to do his own dirty work, let him do it.
“In spite of all his boasting our hands have been pretty clean up to the present. It is quite true that we have always been prepared to put a man out of the way if it had to be done, but we have never done it yet.