“Well, you idiot,” began Jack truculently; “haven’t you got your chance now?”

“If I choose to take it—­yes,” was the rejoinder; “but I don’t know as I will.  It seems to me I hold all the trumps and you are at my mercy.”

“Why, you insolent dog!” bellowed Jack, rising to his feet from the position in which he had been squatting.  “For two cents I’d knock your bewhiskered head off!”

He advanced threateningly, but Bill, seeing the turn matters were taking, and realizing that more was to be gained by peaceful methods, intervened.

“Now, Jack, shut up.  Stow that nonsense,” he ordered sharply.  “Look here, Hank, we’ll accept your terms.  Half to you if you carry it out successfully.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then we’ll all have to shift for ourselves.  This part of the country will be too hot to hold us.  I mean to go out West.  I’ve got a cousin who has a ranch, and I think I could get along all right there if the worst comes to the worst.”

“See here, I don’t agree with your way of dividing the money,” began Jack, an angry light in his eyes.  “Look—­”

“Look here, Jack,” cut in Bill sharply, “if you don’t like it, it doesn’t do you any good.  If you object to it, keep out.  Hank and I form a majority.  You chump” he added, quickly, under his breath, as Hank turned away and began to “skip” flat stones over the water, “don’t you see he takes all the responsibility?  It’s a cinch for us to get away if anything goes wrong.”

“Yes, it’s a cinch we get cheated out of our share of the money,” argued Jack, with an angry glare in the direction of the unconscious Hank.

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” argued Bill.  “You know, as well as I do, that if we are implicated in this affair it means serious trouble.  Our parents wouldn’t stand for it, and we should be disgraced.  By doing it this way we get some of the proceeds—­I admit not our fair share but what’s to be done?”

“Well, I guess you are right, Bill,” assented Jack, with a shrug.  “It’s go ahead now; we’ve gone too far to draw back.”

“That’s the line of talk,” grinned Bill, “and when we’ve each got fifty dollars in our pockets, silenced Hank with a golden gag and had our revenge on those kids, we’ll be able to talk over future plans.  I’m sick of school.  I hate the idea of going back there.  I’ve half a mind to strike out for the West anyway.”

“Do you think I could get a job on your cousin’s ranch?” asked Jack.

“I don’t doubt it a bit,” rejoined Bill.  “You’re a good, husky chap, and brawn and muscle is what they need in the West.”

“Yes, I’m husky, all right,” conceded Jack modestly.  “Sometimes I think that I don’t get full opportunities to expand here in this wretched country hole.”

“No, the West is the place,” agreed Bill, with an inward smile, “as the newspapers say—­one can expand with the country out there.”