ing to fix you, and those kids of yours, too! Just wait and see!"
Four of the smugglers had been whispering among themselves at the back of the room during this talk between the chief smuggler and the detective, and now one of these men stepped forward.
"Got a word to say to you, chief," he began, addressing Snackley.
"What is it now!" The chief smuggler's voice was surly.
"It's about what's to be done with these three, now we have 'em prisoners," returned the man hesitatingly. "Of course, your business is your own and we're not asking any questions about what happened to Felix Polucca, but we're in this game of smuggling, see? We don't stand for anything that's too red-handed."
"That's the truth!" put in another of the men.
"Kind of chicken-hearted," sneered Snackley. "You look out or I'll fire the lot of you!"
"No, you won't, chief," replied the first man who had addressed him. "We've helped in this smuggling, and we're going to have our full share of what's coming to us."
"We've got another plan about those three prisoners," put in a fellow who had not yet spoken. "I think it would work out grand."
