George sat down on a chair and nursed his knee and contemplated the toe of his boot. George, despite his easy way of life was no fool in money matters.
“You are going to spend five thousand in trying to catch this pirate,” said he, “and if you fail, where will you be?”
“Ask me another,” said Hank.
George took his cigarette case from his pocket, chose a cigarette and lit it; the two sat for a moment in silence.
“Besides,” said George suddenly, “you’ll most likely get a bullet through your head.”
“Most like,” said Hank.
“To say nothing of weather. You know what Pacific weather is on the coast here, and you’ll have to lay up maybe months waiting for the fellow in a cramped boat with beastly grub.”
“Sure,” said Hank.
“Well, there it is, the whole thing’s mad, rotten mad, it hasn’t a sound plank in it. What did you mean dragging me here with that proposition for bait?”
“Me drag you!” cried the outraged Hank.