"How could that be? I never associate with them."
"It wasn't that kind of a fairy," Bunny reassured him, laughing. "Well, you get Licorice and come to my hotel when this place closes up."
"Where is that?" asked Bonds. Bunny wrote his name and room number down on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
Three hours later Bunny was awakened by a knocking at his door. He admitted Bonds and Licorice, the latter smelling strongly of steam and food.
"Here," said Bunny, holding up a hundred dollar bill, "is a century note. If you boys can lay aside your scruples for a few hours you can have five of them apiece."
"Well," said Bonds, "neither Santop nor I have been overburdened with them."
"That's what I thought," Bunny murmured. He proceeded to outline the work he wanted them to do.
"But that would be a criminal offense," objected Licorice.
"You too, Brutus?" sneered Bonds.
"Well, we can't afford to take chances unless we're protected," the former President of Africa argued rather weakly. He was money-hungry and was longing for a stake to get back to Demerara where, since there was a large Negro population, a white man, by virtue of his complexion, amounted to something. Yet, he had had enough experience behind the bars to make him wary.