and the sooner the better."

Von Bork had mastered his anger.

"We have been allies too long to quarrel now at the very hour of
victory," he said. "You've done splendid work and taken risks,
and I can't forget it. By all means go to Holland, and you can
get a boat from Rotterdam to New York. No other line will be
safe a week from now. I'll take that book and pack it with the
rest."

The American held the small parcel in his hand, but made no
motion to give it up.

"What about the dough?" he asked.

"The what?"

"The boodle. The reward. The 500 pounds. The gunner turned
damned nasty at the last, and I had to square him with an extra
hundred dollars or it would have been nitsky for you and me.
'Nothin' doin'!' says he, and he meant it, too, but the last
hundred did it. It's cost me two hundred pound from first to
last, so it isn't likely I'd give it up without gettin' my wad."

Von Bork smiled with some bitterness. "You don't seem to have a
very high opinion of my honour," said he, "you want the money
before you give up the book."

"Well, mister, it is a business proposition."