"That was our agreement," said Harnash, the little dialogue convincing each man that no doubt was to be entertained of the other.
"Well, where's the goods?"
"In the car."
"Fetch him in."
"He's rather heavy. Perhaps you'll give me a hand."
"Oh, all right," answered the man, putting his electric torch in his pocket.
The two went to the car and the man easily picked up the unconscious Beekman and unaided carried him within the door. Harnash followed. He observed the man glanced at the numbers on the car and was glad that he had taken the precaution to change them. The crimp now dropped the unconscious Beekman in the hallway and turned to Harnash. He found the latter standing quietly, but with an automatic pistol in his hand.
"You needn't be afraid of me," said the man.
"I'm not," answered Harnash. He was ghastly pale and extremely nervous, but not from fear of the crimp. "This is just a matter of precaution."
"Well, what do I git out of this yere job?" asked the man.