"How come you stopped the barge if you already had a good horse? And why were you hiding that black bag under your saddle?" Benny kept talking, so fast that Mr. Clancy couldn't have answered his questions if he had wanted to. And he certainly didn't seem to want to.
"It looked just like the bag Mr. Carlisle put on the train -- and the one that man in the black suit was carrying. What was in all those bags? Or -- was that you pretending to be somebody else again? Were you the one that killed that man at the bank and stole the money?"
Mr. Clancy had been staring at him all this time without moving. Suddenly he jumped forward and grabbed Benny. He covered Benny's mouth with one hand and with the other pulled out a big, long knife. Holding Benny so tight it hurt, he laid the knife up against his throat and whispered in his ear.
"I guess you do get to go along with me, after all, Benny my boy," he hissed. "But somehow I don't think we'll make it to Uncle Tom's. The chickens'll be so disappointed."