"Meet me at the end of the porch."
She hesitated.
"Of course, it really belongs to me," she remarked parenthetically.
Sam chuckled.
"Now you're getting back to the morals of it. That won't get you anything, ma'am."
"But—"
"Take the bull outside and shoot it," he interrupted tersely. "What difference does it make whether you own it or not? Maybe you do; perhaps you don't. I'm not asking you to produce any title-deeds. The point to aim at is—get the bracelet!
"It may belong to the Queen of England for all I know. I don't think you'd be particular if it did, provided you wanted it. You asked me to go shares on this job—"
"I didn't!"
"I guess that's right, too. You wanted me to do it alone. That's worse because you were sticking all the chances on me. But so far as stealing it goes, you'll have to admit that I didn't suggest it. I only told you where the thing was. Then you make a proposition to hire me."