I'll pay you well, I've got plenty of gold

Foulfellow:
So, Coachman, what's your proposition? The Coachman:
How would you blokes like to make some real money? [pulls out a big bag of gold pieces, which he drops on the table with a loud clank] Foulfellow:
[his eyes widen]
Well! And who do we have to... [makes a throat slashing gesture] The Coachman:
No, no, no... nothing like that. You see... [moves his eyes slowly left and right with Foulfellow briefly following suit, then leans in with a slight whisper] The Coachman:
I'm collecting stupid little boys. Foulfellow:
Stupid little boys? The Coachman:
You know... the disobedient ones that are playing hooky from school. Foulfellow:
Oh... The Coachman:
So You see... [leans in and whispers into Foulfellow's ear indistinctly for a while, his sidekick listens in through his opposite ear, then cleans it out with his finger so he can hear it better] The Coachman:
... and I takes them to Pleasure Island. Foulfellow:
Ah. Pleasure Island... [suddenly has a look of horror] Foulfellow:
Pleasure Island? But the law! Suppose they... The Coachman:
No, no, no, there's no risk. They never come back... as BOYS! [his face morphs to a devil like appearance as he makes an evil grin. Foulfellow and his sidekick sweat a little as he laughs maniacally, then grabs him by the collar and holds him close] The Coachman:
Now, I've got a coach leaving the crossroads by midnight, see me there. And no double crossing! Foulfellow:
No sir... The Coachman:
Any prospects you find, bring them to me. Foulfellow:
Yes sir. The Coachman:
I'll pay you well, I've got plenty of gold