“It’s a go,” says I. “Is that sucker well lined?”
“Three thousand,” says he. “I seen a thousand of it meself, and I know there’s more.”
I may as well mention that Old King Brady lent me a thousand to work with—real green goods; not a good bill among the lot, I thought.
“When are you going to meet him?” I says.
“About five o’clock,” says he, “in front of the Astor House. He’s afraid to move about in daylight for fear the police will go for him. Ha—ha! the fool. He’s just about the greenest I ever seen, yet he seems to be an intelligent kind of a chap, too.”
“You shall have the time,” says I. “I won’t report till six o’clock—will that do?”
“Oh, elegantly! Where’ll you lay in the meanwhile?”
“Is there a back way out of this place?”
“You bet there is.”