“Yes,” Garson agreed, “we can quit, all of us.” There was avarice in his voice.
The tempter was sure that the battle was won, and smiled contentedly.
“Well,” he urged, “what do you say?”
“How would we split it?” It was plain that Garson had given over the struggle against greed. After all, Mary was only a woman, despite her cleverness, and with all a woman's timidity. Here was sport for men.
“Three ways would be right,” Griggs answered. “One to me, one to you and one to be divided up among the others.”
Garson brought his fist down on the table with a force that made the glasses jingle.
“You're on,” he said, strongly.
“Fine!” Griggs declared, and the two men shook hands. “Now, I'll get——”
“Get nothing!” Garson interrupted. “I'll get my own men. Chicago Red is in town. So is Dacey, with perhaps a couple of others of the right sort. I'll get them to meet you at Blinkey's at two to-morrow afternoon, and, if it looks right, we'll turn the trick to-morrow night.”
“That's the stuff,” Griggs agreed, greatly pleased.