Babe took a deep inhale and let the smoke drift gently through her nostrils. Her tone was casual.

“Oh, she told me you had her workin’ up in the Pavillion and had a big percentage job for her that’ll pay her plenty. You know Jenny. She was drinkin’ and shootin’ off her mouth around here about it.”

Harry’s look was that of a killer as he turned to Lou.

“What did I tell you, Lou? She can’t keep her pan closed. It’s suicide to put anybody in there like Cokey.”

Lou grunted.

“What’s the matter with givin’ me a break? How about lettin’ me in on somethin’ good?” said Babe.

Harry placed his hand on Lou’s arm. Lou nodded his head.

“What is it?” Babe asked.

Lou rose and jerked his thumb towards the door. Harry paid the bill and the three patrons left Toni’s. They got into Lou’s car.

The latter was at the wheel and Harry climbed in the back after Babe. He took a rod from the side-pocket of his coat and slid it into the holster under his left arm-pit. Harry’s business was a dangerous one; he was always prepared for any eventuality. He lit a cigarette as the car pulled away from the curb. Then he bent close to Babe so that her ear was close to his mouth.

“We’re fixin’ to go into a Five and Ten Cent store up here, with these.” He drew a small carton out of his inside pocket. It looked like a cigarette tin. Babe took it and removed the cover. There were a dozen gold-plated rouge compacts in the box. The chalk-rouge lifted out, and in the cavity were four three-and-a-half grain cubes of morphine.

“Ten dollars apiece,” Harry said, “and a hundred for the carton. We were figurin’ on Jenny, but there ain’t nobody was made for the job like you, Babe. You were born for it.”

Babe didn’t hesitate a second.

“All right,” she said crisply, ”what’s my rake-off?”

“One-third on everything. Morphine, heroin and coke. Is it a go?”

“Sure. When?”

“We’ll talk it over tomorrow night up at the Club Sugar Cane. We’ll know definitely then. How’s that?”

“Okay with me.”

Harry leaned forward in his seat.

“Babe’s willin’ to come in with us,” he told Lou. “That all right?”

“Sure,” Lou said over his shoulder. “We can’t miss with her.”

They were at 125th Street and Seventh Avenue.

“Let me off here,” said Babe. “I’ll cab from here.”

The car pulled in at the curb.

Spanish Harry helped her out.

“Make it ten o’clock tomorrow at Toni’s,” he said in parting. “From there we’ll jump over to the Club Sugar Cane.”