"I don't see that," said Minton, quickly.
"Why, man, I've done all the headwork. What have you done to compare with me?"
"We are equal partners," said Minton, doggedly.
"That is where you are mistaken. I don't mind, though, giving you half of what we get for the girl."
"How shall we arrange to get anything? It is rather a ticklish business—"
"That's where the headwork comes in. I shall wait upon old Pearson, and tell him that I have a clew, and suspect I know who abducted the child. Then I'll work him up to a point where he'll shell out liberally."
"Won't there be risk?"
"How can there be? Leave the thing to me and I'll arrange it. The fact is, Minton, you are a man of no ideas. If I depended on you, you wouldn't make a cent out of one of the neatest jobs I've ever been concerned in."
Minton was conscious that there was some truth in this, and it helped to reconcile him to the evident determination of his companion to appropriate the lion's share of the fruits of their questionable enterprises.
"I suppose Joe's all right?" he said, after a pause.