“Never!” replied the woollen-draper; “and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain.”
“My death will lie at your door,” remarked Jackson to the carpenter.
“Show me your warrant!” said Wood, almost driven to his wit's-end; “perhaps it isn't regular?”
“Ask him who he is?” suggested Thames.
“A good idea!” exclaimed the carpenter. “May I beg to know whom I've the pleasure of addressing? Jackson, I conclude, is merely an assumed name.”
“What does it signify?” returned the latter, angrily.
“A great deal!” replied Thames. “If you won't disclose your name, I will for you! You are Jonathan Wild!”
“Further concealment is needless,” answered the other, pulling off his wig and black patch, and resuming his natural tone of voice; “I am Jonathan Wild!”
“Say you so!” rejoined Kneebone; “then be this your passport to eternity.”
Upon which he drew the trigger of the pistol, which, luckily for the individual against whom it was aimed, flashed in the pan.