and, the trio beckoning him, he joined them with what alacrity he could, in the strait-waistcoat of stiff wounds which now imprisoned him.
“Well,” began the little grey man, “we’re going to give you a trial!”
Tom broke out with impious thanks which the other instantly cut short.
“Stop till you hear what that means,” said Hookey. “It means that we saddle up straight away—and stick up Castle Sullivan before morning. It means that you’ve got to make yourself extra useful there, since you know the place. So what do you say to it now?”
For the moment Tom could say nothing at all. He was too surprised; and, in his surprise, he was thinking of the Sullivans and sweet revenge, of the detested spot he meant never to see again, and of Peggy who must be protected—all at once.
“Well?” said Hookey. “You know the place. What do you say?”
“I’m known there, too!”
“What of that?”
“They’d make a mark of me. The Sullivans would have me back alive or dead. Then I have enemies among the men—they’d side against me out of spite.”
“Well, we shall all wear masks.”
Tom glanced down at his regulation jacket, shoes and trousers; took off his regulation cap, and shook his head.
“It would never be enough. There are too many of them wearing the very same as these.”
“Then you’ll just have to take your chance,” said Hookey sharply. “Or you may kneel down and say your prayers!”
“Stop!” said Slipper.
