“I have two proposals to make, sir, and either is fair. Take your choice. I will give you twenty-five thousand when you deliver the falcon, and another twenty-five thousand as soon as I get to New York; or I will give you one quarter—twenty-five percent—of what I realize on the falcon. There you are, sir: an almost immediate fifty thousand dollars or a vastly greater sum within, say, a couple of months.”
Spade drank and asked:
“How much greater?”
“Vastly,” the fat man repeated. “Will you believe me if I name the amount that seems the probable minimum?”
“Why not?”
“What would you say, sir, to half a million?”
Spade narrowed his eyes. “Then you think the dingus is worth two million?”
Gutman smiled serenely. “In your own words, why not?”
