It was twice what we had any right to ask. I was prepared to dicker. Beamish looked at me with that innocent dead pan. For a fraction of a second I thought I saw something back of his round blue eyes, and my stomach jumped like it was shot. Beamish smiled sweetly.
"I'm not much of a bargainer. One hundred Universal Credits will be agreeable to me." He dragged out a roll as big as my two fists, peeled off half a dozen credit slips, and laid them on the table.
"By way of a retainer, gentleman. My attorney and I will call on you in the morning with a contract and itinerary. Good night."
We said good night, trying not to drool. Beamish went away. Bucky made grab for the money, but I beat him to it.
"Scram," I said. "There are guys waiting for this. Big guys with clubs. Here." I gave him a small-denomination slip I'd been holding out. "We can get lushed enough on this."
Shannon has a good vocabulary. He used it. When he got his breath back he said suddenly,
"Beamish is pulling some kind of a game."
"Yeah."
"It may be crooked."
"Sure. And he may be screwball and on the level. For Pete's sake!" I yelled. "You want to sit here till we all dry up and blow away?"