The tables had turned
since leaving the island, and the senator held it in his power to ruin
our one remaining chance of escape. Strangely enough, he missed the
cause of Mr. Cooke's hesitation.
"Look here, old man," said my client, biting off another cigar, "I'm a
first-rate fellow when you get to know me, and I'd do the same for you as
I'm doing for Allen."
"I daresay, sir, I daresay," said the other, a trifle mollified; "I don't
claim that you're not acting as you think right."
"I see it," said Mr. Cooke, with admirable humility; "I see it. I was
wrong to haul you into this, Trevor. And the only thing to consider now
is, how to get you out of it."
Here he appeared for a moment to be wrapped in deep thought, and checked
with his cigar an attempt to interrupt him.
"However you put it, old man," he said at last, "we're all in a pretty
bad hole."
"All!" cried Mr. Trevor, indignantly.
"Yes, all," asserted Mr. Cooke, with composure. "There are the police,
and here is Allen as good as run down. If they find him when they get
abroad, you don't suppose they'll swallow anything you have to say about
trying to deliver him over. No, sir, you'll be bagged and fined along
with the rest of us. And I'd be damned sorry to see it, if I do say it;
and I blame myself freely for it, old man.
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