"Oh, maybe I'd make fifty thousand dollars."
"Whew! That's some money."
"Sure. I'd like to try. Say, boy, I'll hand you five hundred dollars to let me take a copy of that message. All you need do is just leave it on your table there for five minutes and lock the outer door. Then just pass right into the other room till the five minutes is up. I'll hand you the bills right here an' now. I'd like to figure on that message. Is it a bet?"
Steve shook his head. He was scared. He knew the consequences of discovery to himself too well. It was penitentiary. It was the equivalent of tapping wires. But Peter was unfolding a big roll of bills, and the temptation of handling that money was very great.
"You just need to copy the message out? That all?"
"Just that. No more."
"You won't need to disfigure my record?"
"Sure not." Peter grinned. He was sweating, profusely. He felt he was on a hot scent and likely to make a kill.
"Only to make a copy. It's a big bunch of money for just a copy," Steve demurred suspiciously.
Peter laughed.