He pushed across the desk Hunsaker's cheque for eleven hundred pounds. Tomlin's heavy features relaxed into a smile. Quinney scribbled some figures on a memorandum pad, and invited his colleague to verify them. The sum represented the exact amount due to Tomlin as his share of the plunder.
"Quite O.K., Joe."
"Like your bit o' ready now?"
"Never refuse cash, my lad."
Quinney wrote out a cheque, and a receipt. Tomlin accepted the cheque, placing it in a bulky pocket-book. He glared askance at the receipt, which set forth that the sum just paid was a commission upon the sale of eight chairs to Cyrus P. Hunsaker, of Hunsaker.
"Why this receipt, Joe? Ain't a cheque a receipt?"
Quinney answered curtly:
"A cheque don't show what money is paid for. My way of doin' business."
"No complaints."
He chuckled fatly, raising his thick eyebrows when Quinney observed lightly: