without the police, why?"

John Steele's reply was to the point; he stated exactly what he wanted
and what he meant that the other should give him. As the fellow heard,
he breathed harder; he held himself in with difficulty.

"And so that's what you've come for, Mister?" he said, a hoarse guffaw
falling from the coarse lips. John Steele answered quietly. "And you
think there is any chance of your getting it? May I be asking," with an
evil grin, "how you expect to make me, Tom Rogers," bringing down his
great fist, "do your bidding?"

"In the first place by assuring you no harm shall come to you. It is in
my power to avert that, in case you comply. In the second place, you
will be given enough sovereigns to--"

"Quids, eh? Let me have sight of them, Mister. We might talk better."

"Do you think I'd bring them here, Tom-o'-the-Road? No, no!" bruskly.

"That settles it." The other made a gesture, contemptuous, dissenting.

John Steele's manner changed; he turned suddenly on the fellow like
lightning. "In the next place by giving you your choice of doing what I
ask, or of being turned over to the traps."

"The traps!" The other fellow's face became contorted. "You mean that
you--"

"Will give you up for that little job, unless--"