"As for Ferret, I know he's all smoothed. He spoke his piece today, and we shook hands. So it's all set." With the campaign fully decided, the two men changed their subject.
"Judge will be up at Bronlon's," declared Major. "You're sending out that shipment of coffins tonight, of course."
"Yes. I told you the truck was coming. I'm sending some in the hearse, too."
"Well, that puts Judge at the other end. Great. Since we're doing two nights' work in one, we'll have to move right along. Ferret and I will grab the cash. You and Butcher can load it. Then we'll separate. I'll see Ferret and Butcher on Monday — Judge, too."
"And you can all stay away from here, thank you," responded Deacon. "I'll be glad to have it over. The undertaking business is getting too good to suit me."
"You're like me, Deacon," laughed Major. "Either one of us could do good in a legitimate line. But why try it when there's a hundred thousand apiece in this racket?"
"Maybe more," observed Deacon.
"Yes," agreed Major. "Judge is a square shooter. He's wise, too. He'll be sitting pretty after this is past. Ready to hold down a real bank president's job."
Deacon held up his hand for silence. Someone was approaching through the adjoining room. A moment later, Butcher and Ferret came into the morgue.
"Everything all right?" asked Major.