“One pilot is enough.”

“You know the people?”

“Well, rather!”

“Do you doubt the success of the undertaking?”

“No, sir. I see only one chance for failure.”

“And that?”

“I have made this Raid a study. If anything occurs to prevent my leading the expedition, and you put another man at the head, it will fail.”

“Even if it be Vernet?”

“Even Vernet. Satan himself would fail in those alleys, unless he knew the ground.”

“And yet you would share your honors with Vernet for friendship’s sake? Dick, you are a queer fish! But why do you suggest a possibility of your absence?”

“Because,” sliding off the table and pulling his hat low[33] over his eyes, “The Raid is thirty-six hours distant, and one never knows what may happen in thirty-six hours. Is there any thing else, sir?”

[33]

“Yes; I’ve a dainty bit of mystery for you. No blind alleys and thieves dens in this; it’s for to-morrow evening, too.”

Stanhope resumed his former position upon the corner of the table, pushed back his hat, and turned an attentive face to his Chief.

“Your Raid will not move until a little after midnight; this other business is for ten o’clock. You can be at liberty by eleven. You know Follingsbee, the lawyer?”

“By reputation; yes. Is he in the mystery?”

“He’s negotiating for a client; a lady.”

“A lady!” with a stare of dismay. “Why didn’t you turn her over to Van; you know he is just the man to deal with women, and I—”

“You are afraid of a petticoat! I know; and I might have chosen Vernet, if the choice had been given me. But the lawyer asked for you.”

 Prev. P 17/322 next