"What did they cost you?"

"Well, they didn't cost me fifty thousand dollars," and Gaff Caven
closed one eye suggestively.

"You bet they didn't! More than likely they didn't cost you fifty
dollars."

"What, such elegantly engraved stocks as those?"

"Pooh! I can buy a bushel-basket full of worthless stocks for a dollar,"
came from Pat Malone. "But that isn't here nor there. I go into the deal
if you give me my fair share of the earnings."

"I'll give you one-third, Pat, and that's a fair share, I think."

"Why not make it half?"

"Because I'll do the most of the work. It's no easy matter to find a
victim." And Gaff Caven laughed broadly. He had a good-appearing face,
but his eyes were small and not to be trusted.

"All right, I'll go in for a third then. But how soon is the excitement
to begin?"

"Oh, in a week or so. I've got the advertisements in the papers
already."

"Not in New York?"