“Well” — Birch hesitated before making his admission — “I might as well tell you the real dope, Spotter. I buy the goods outright, cash in advance. I don’t know where it comes from myself.”
“You don’t?” Spotter asked in amazement.
“No,” replied Birch. “I tell the messenger how much I want and when. How I got into the racket is my own business; no use in going into that. But I play the game straight.
“The fellow will show up any time now. He brings ten thousand in queer bills — but they’re the best imitation I’ve ever seen — and I give him real money for it.”
Spotter did not ask regarding the terms on which Doc Birch worked in paying for the counterfeit bills that came from the unknown source.
“You’re taking out two grand to-night,” remarked Birch. “The others will come at different times, to get theirs. Then I’m clear.
“They all work like you — fifty-fifty split with me. So far, I’ve never been stung.”
“Why should we sting you, Doc? It’s a soft racket for us.”
“You said it, Spotter.”
“To tell you the truth, Doc, I was always kinda worried about you. I figured maybe you was makin’ the phony mazuma right here.”