No comment from the searching man. 152
“You’re a funny feller, anyhow, and I got a notion to take you up. Crook, heh?”
“Oh, a sort of a tin-horn,” answered the doctor apparently indifferent about the whole matter.
Slavens was working farther away now, so the man left his place on the box to draw within the range of confidential conversation.
“If I was to put up the ten, would you be willing to go over there now and put that scheme of yours in motion?” he asked.
“No; not now. There would be some preliminaries. In the first place, that old man knows me, although he might not spot me at the first look in this rig. I’d have to get a pair of goggles to hide my eyes. And then there would be supper.”
“Sure,” agreed the little man. “I was going to ask you about that, anyhow.”
“Thank you. The crowd will be thicker in there about ten o’clock tonight, and he’ll have more money on the table. It will be better for me and for my scheme to wait till about that time. It’s a long shot, partner; I’ll tell you that before you take it.”
“One in five?” asked the man, looking around cautiously, leaning forward, whispering.
“Not one in twenty,” discounted the doctor. “But if it goes, it goes as smooth as grease.”