Taylor lay back and laughed a bitter, ironical laugh.
"What the deuce is the matter with you?" demanded Barney, almost savagely.
"May I ask you one question?" inquired Taylor politely.
"Of course; what is it?"
"How much do you think we got out of that little job?"
"Close on to twenty thousand dollars."
Again came the bitter, ironical laugh.
"Twenty thousand dollars, eh?"
"Yes, close on to that."
"You feel pretty sure of it?"