"Well, poor coward?"

Grabman knit his thin eyebrows and gnawed his blubber lips.

"I am no coward, as you know."

"Not when a thing is to be done, but after it is done. You brave the
substance, and tremble at the shadow. I dare say you see ugly goblins in
the dark, Grabman?"

"Ay, ay; but it is no use talking to you. You call yourself Jason
because of your yellow hair, or your love for the golden fleece; but your
old comrades call you 'Rattlesnake,' and you have its blood, as its
venom."

"And its charm, man," added Jason, with a strange smile, that, though
hypocritical and constrained, had yet a certain softness, and added
greatly to the comeliness of features which many might call beautiful,
and all would allow to be regular and symmetrical. "I shall find at
least ten love-letters on my table when I go home. But enough of these
fopperies, I am here on business."

"Law, of course; I am your man. Who's the victim?" and a hideous grin on
Grabman's face contrasted the sleek smile that yet lingered upon his
visitor's.

"No; something less hazardous, but not less lucrative than our old
practices. This is a business that may bring you hundreds, thousands;
that may take you from this hovel to speculate at the West End; that may
change your gin into Lafitte, and your herring into venison; that may