Are you crazy?" muttered the other in French. Gramont laughed, and responded in the same tongue.
"It does look that way, doesn't it? You're slippery, but now you're caught."
Chacherre must have realized that he stood in danger. He checked a curse, and regarded Gramont with a steady coolness.
"Be careful!" he said, his voice deadly. "What do you mean by this?"
Gramont looked at him and puffed his pipe.
"The game's up, Ben," he observed. "I know all about the place down there—about the cars, and about the lottery. Your gang has had a pleasant time, eh? But now you and the others are going to do a little work for the state on the road gangs."
"Bah! Ça? va rivé dans semaine quatte zheudis!" spat Chacherre, contemptuously. "That will happen in the week of four Thursdays, you fool! So you know about things, eh? My master will soon shut your mouth!"
"He can't," said Gramont, placidly. "You'll all be under arrest."
Chacherre laughed scornfully, then spoke with that deadly gravity.
