"Maybe, maybe."
"Since things are aboveboard—listen here," said Greenfield with sudden seriousness. "Bub, you'll not get me alive. Nothing personal, you understand, but it'll have to be your life or mine. If it comes to the pinch, look out for yourself—"
"Oh, yes," said Frawley, with a matter-of-fact nod, "I understand."
"I ain't tried to bribe you," said Greenfield, rising. "Thank me for that—though another man might have been sent up for life."
"Thanks," Frawley said with a drawl. "And you'll notice I haven't advised you to come back and face the music. Seems to me we understand each other."
"Here's my address," said Greenfield, handing him a card; "may save you some trouble. I'm here every night." He held out his hand. "Turn up and meet the profesh. They're a clever lot here. They'd appreciate meeting you, too."
"Perhaps I will."
"Ta-ta, then."
Greenfield took a few steps, halted, and lounged back with a smile full of mischief.
"By the way, Bub—how long has Her Majesty's dinkies given you?"