"Think of what a haul it would be."
"I suppose you want me to lift the pile. Is that it?"
"Not unless we come to a thorough understanding beforehand," said Braddock quickly. "It's my plan, so I get the bulk of it, understand that."
"I do the job and you get the stuff," sneered Dick, still looking at his companion. Braddock felt that look and moved uncomfortably.
"It's too much money to let get away," he explained somewhat irrelevantly.
"Then why don't you pinch it yourself? Why ask me to do it?"
Braddock turned upon him angrily. "Why, I'm no thief! I'll break your neck if you make another crack like that."
Artful Dick arose. "I'm not so easily insulted," he said with a queer little laugh. "But, say, Braddock, let me tell you one thing. I'm not going to touch that kid's wad, and you ain't either. I'm a friend of his'n, after what happened to-day. Put that in your pipe, Brad, and smoke it."
Braddock gulped painfully. "See here, Dick, don't be a fool. We can clean up a—"
"You'd take the pennies off a dead nigger's eyes," interrupted the pickpocket scathingly.