When God Laughs, Jack London [most read books in the world of all time .txt] 📗

was too busy to figger it out, but it’s fat. I can tell you that much, Jim, it’s fat. I don’t dast to think how fat it is. Wait till we get to the room.”

Jim looked at him keenly under the street lamp of the next crossing, and saw that his face was a trifle grim and that he carried his left arm peculiarly.

“What’s the matter with your arm?” he demanded.

“The little cuss bit me. Hope I don’t get hydrophoby. Folks gets hydrophoby from manbite sometimes, don’t they?”

“Gave you fight, eh?” Jim asked encouragingly.

The other grunted.

“You’re harder’n hell to get information from,” Jim burst out irritably. “Tell us about it. You ain’t goin’ to lose money just a-tellin’ a guy.”

“I guess I choked him some,” came the answer. Then, by way of explanation, “He woke up on me.”

“You did it neat. I never heard a sound.”

“Jim,” the other said with seriousness, “it’s a hangin’ matter. I fixed ’m. I had to. He woke up on me. You an’ me’s got to do some layin’ low for a spell.”

Jim gave a low whistle of comprehension.

“Did you hear me whistle?” he asked suddenly.

“Sure. I was all done. I was just comin’ out.”

“It was a bull. But he wasn’t on a little bit. Went right by an’ kept a-paddin’ the hoof out a sight. Then I come back an’ gave you the whistle. What made you take so long after that?”

“I was waitin’ to make sure,” Matt explained. “I was mighty glad when I heard you whistle again. It’s hard work waitin’. I just sat there an’ thought an’ thought⁠ ⁠… oh, all kinds of things. It’s remarkable what a fellow’ll think about. And then there was a darn cat that kept movin’ around the house all’ botherin’ me with its noises.”

“An’ it’s fat!” Jim exclaimed irrelevantly and with joy.

“I’m sure tellin’ you, Jim, it’s fat. I’m plum’ anxious for another look at ’em.”

Unconsciously the two men quickened their pace. Yet they did not relax from their caution. Twice they changed their course in order to avoid policemen, and they made very sure that they were not observed when they dived into the dark hallway of a cheap rooming house down town.

Not until they had gained their own room on the top floor, did they scratch a match. While Jim lighted a lamp, Matt locked the door and threw the bolts into place. As he turned, he noticed that his partner was waiting expectantly. Matt smiled to himself at the other’s eagerness.

“Them searchlights is all right,” he said, drawing forth a small pocket electric lamp and examining it. “But we got to get a new battery. It’s runnin’ pretty weak. I thought once or twice it’d leave me in the dark. Funny arrangements in that house. I near got lost. His room was on the left, an’ that fooled me some.”

“I told you it was on the left,” Jim interrupted.

“You told me it was on the right,” Matt went on. “I guess I know what you told me, an’ there’s the map you drew.”

Fumbling in his vest pocket, he drew out a folded slip of paper. As he unfolded it, Jim bent over and looked.

“I did make a mistake,” he confessed.

“You sure did. It got me guessin’ some for a while.”

“But it don’t matter now,” Jim cried. “Let’s see what you got.”

“It does matter,” Matt retorted. “It matters a lot⁠ ⁠… to me. I’ve got to run all the risk. I put my head in the trap while you stay on the street. You got to get on to yourself an’ be more careful. All right, I’ll show you.”

He dipped loosely into his trousers pocket and brought out a handful of small diamonds. He spilled them out in a blazing stream on the greasy table. Jim let out a great oath.

“That’s nothing,” Matt said with triumphant complacence. “I ain’t begun yet.”

From one pocket after another he continued bringing forth the spoil. There were many diamonds wrapped in chamois skin that were larger than those in the first handful. From one pocket he brought out a handful of very small cut gems.

“Sun dust,” he remarked, as he spilled them on the table in a space by themselves.

Jim examined them.

“Just the same, they retail for a couple of dollars each,” he said. “Is that all?”

“Ain’t it enough?” the other demanded in an aggrieved tone.

“Sure it is,” Jim answered with unqualified approval. “Better’n I expected. I wouldn’t take a cent less than ten thousan’ for the bunch.”

“Ten thousan’,” Matt sneered. “They’re worth twic’t that, an’ I don’t know anything about joolery, either. Look at that big boy!”

He picked it out from the sparkling heap and held it near to the lamp with the air of an expert, weighing and judging.

“Worth a thousan’ all by its lonely,” was Jim’s quicker judgment.

“A thousan’ your grandmother,” was Matt’s scornful rejoinder. “You couldn’t buy it for three.”

“Wake me up! I’m dreamin’!” The sparkle of the gems was in Jim’s eyes, and he began sorting out the larger diamonds and examining them. “We’re rich men, Matt⁠—we’ll be regular swells.”

“It’ll take years to get rid of ’em,” was Matt’s more practical thought.

“But think how we’ll live! Nothin’ to do but spend the money an’ go on gettin’ rid of em.”

Matt’s eyes were beginning to sparkle, though sombrely, as his phlegmatic nature woke up.

“I told you I didn’t dast think how fat it was,” he murmured in a low voice.

“What a killin’! What a killin’!” was the other’s more ecstatic utterance.

“I almost forgot,” Matt said, thrusting his hand into his inside coat pocket.

A string of large pearls emerged from wrappings of tissue paper and chamois skin. Jim scarcely glanced at them.

“They’re worth money,” he said, and returned to the diamonds.

A silence fell on the two men. Jim played with the gems, running them through his fingers, sorting them into piles, and spreading them out flat and wide. He was a slender, weazened man, nervous, irritable, high-strung, and anaemic⁠—a typical child of the gutter, with unbeautiful