"Counted the cockroaches in your private suite?"
"Not yet."
"We got forty-seven," Ike said proudly. "One nigh as big as that dog of yours. What you got in your pack?"
"Candles?" Jeff suggested.
"Law! If Bucky and me had any money, we'd buy some."
Jeff took three candles, which he bought for a penny and sold for three cents each, from his pocket. He handed two of them and a half dozen matches around the end of his cell.
"A gift from Tarrant Enterprises, Ltd."
"Thanks, Tarrant what-you-call-it. We'll pay you soon's we've found us a fortune."
"I'll count on it," Jeff said.
He lighted the third candle, dripped wax from it onto the iron stand, and set it upright in its own drippings. By its flickering light, he examined the cell more closely. It was what he had expected. The floor was dirty, the mattresses only a little less so, and cockroaches scurried for cracks.