“Surest thing you know. But you’d have to take chances,” Magill pointedly added. “Chances, eh? Chances cut no ice with me. I’d take the longest ever.” “Is that right?” asked Magill, smiling. “Try me and see,” said Patsy; then abruptly: “Say, what’s your game? You ain’t stringing me along in this fashion for nothing.” “I’m trying to get your measure,” Magill frankly admitted. “Is that so?” Patsy spoke with affected resentment. “What do you want of it? How do you like it, as far as you’ve got?” “You look all right,” Magill vouchsafed dryly. “Well, I ain’t dolled up for anything,” Patsy bluntly asserted. “I’m just as you see me, all on the surface. Take it or leave it. It’s up to you.” Magill was favorably impressed, and he waxed confidential. “See here, pal, what’s your name?” he inquired. “Jack Dolan,” said Patsy readily. “Do you hang out around here?” “Not so far away I can’t hoof it.” “What’s your business?” “Chauffeur--when I’m in on a job,” said Patsy, at random, but he again shot luckily. “I’m looking for one just now, but not looking too hard.” “Would you take a mighty soft one?” Magill questioned. “Would a duck swim?” “And take chances?” “Any you’ll take,” said Patsy. “You can gamble on that.” “If I can gamble safely on it,” Magill replied, “I can put you on easy street, and do it without much risk.” “You can, eh?” “Believe me--I can!” “Say, you cut loose, then,” said Patsy, drawing nearer. “You don’t need to beat around any more bushes. I’ll go up against anything for coin, if there’s enough of it, or for that skirt. You start right in with the bridle off and hand out your dye stuff. You’ll find me game, all right.” Magill really thought so, now, so well had Patsy played his part. He laid his finger on Patsy’s arm, saying more impressively: “Listen to me, Dolan. If you mean all you say, I can put you in right to share in a barrel of money. It’s not a case of crack a bank or pull off any kind of a dangerous job. The coin is where it can be easily got--barring one thing.” “What’s that?” “Forcing a certain party to say where it’s hidden.” “The coin?” “Yes.” “Who hid it?” “Never mind who hid it, Dolan,” Magill objected. “Don’t you get too inquisitive. The party who hid it had no legitimate claim on it. He stole it. Furthermore, he’s dead. There will never be a kick from him. All we need do in order to get it is to force a certain party to squeal.” “How much coin is there?” asked Patsy, displaying a steadily increasing interest. “A quarter million.” “Come again! Say that just once more.” “A quarter million.” “I reckoned I must have misunderstood. Say, you ain’t nutty, are you?” questioned Patsy, with a suspicious growl. “Your dome ain’t cracked, is it?”