human
What's the program for to-night?
gpt
Holding-up a dead-wagon,
human
What!
gpt
Oh well, you're the pilot, he said.
human
It's up to you. Remember I'm a nervous man, that's all.
gpt
There's our mark, said he.
human
We cross the Williamsburgh bridge and leave Long Island City by Van Buren Avenue. The rest is easy. The Crematory's not marked on the map but----
gpt
What's a crematory? interrupted Hickey.
human
Anythin' like a creamery?
gpt
Not much like it, said Greg.
human
We'll go to the railway station and inquire from there. I suppose I ought to have a gun----
gpt
Good God! what for?
human
How can you pull off a hold-up without a gun?
gpt
Then you mean it, a hold-up?
human
Surest thing you know.
gpt
Lordy! Lordy! murmured Hickey.
human
What a fellow you are! You'll have to attend to the gun-play yourself. I'm too nervous!
gpt
I will. I don't mean to use it really, just flash it. We've got a little all-steel monkey-wrench that will give a perfect imitation of an automatic in the dark. That will do. We must fill up the flivver with gas, put in a quart of oil, and let down the top.
human
Why the top? asked Hickey.
gpt
It's cold.
human
You'll see. We have to have sixty or seventy feet of rope too.
gpt
Is anybody going to be hanged?
human
No. That's to stretch across the road.