'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 twisted features, small-eyed, with face and mouth perpetually and feverishly hungry, brutish in a cat-like way, stamped to the core with degeneracy.
Matt did not finger the diamonds. He sat with chin on hands and elbows on table, blinking heavily at the blazing array. He was in every way a contrast to the other. No city had bred him. He was heavy-muscled and hairy, gorilla-like in strength and aspect. For him there was no unseen world. His eyes were full and wide apart, and there seemed in them a certain bold brotherliness. They inspired confidence. But a closer inspection would have shown that his eyes were just a trifle too full, just a shade too wide apart. He exceeded, spilled over the limits of normality, and his features told lies about the man beneath.
'The bunch is worth fifty thousan',' Jim remarked suddenly.
'A hundred thousan',' Matt said.
The silence returned and endured a long time, to be broken again by Jim.
'What in hell was he doin' with 'em all at the house?-that's what I want to know. I'd a-thought he'd kept 'em in the safe down at the store.'
Matt had just been considering the vision of the throttled man as he had last looked upon him in the dim light of the electric lantern; but he did not start at the mention of him.
'There's no tellin',' he answered. 'He might a-ben gettin' ready to chuck his pardner. He might a-pulled out in the mornin' for parts unknown, if we hadn't happened along. I guess there's just as many thieves among honest men as there is among thieves. You read about such things in the papers, Jim. Pardners is always knifin' each other.'
A queer, nervous look came into the other's eyes. Matt did not betray that he noted it, though he said-
'What was you thinkin' about, Jim?'
Jim was a trifle awkward for the moment.
'Nothin',' he answered. 'Only I was thinkin' just how funny it was-all them jools at his house. What made you ask?'
'Nothin'. I was just wonderin', that was all.'
The silence settled down, broken by an occasional low and nervous giggle on the part of Jim. He was overcome by the spread of gems. It was not that he felt their beauty. He was unaware that they were beautiful in themselves. But in them his swift imagination visioned the joys of life they would buy, and all the desires and appetites of his diseased mind and sickly flesh were tickled by the promise they extended. He builded wondrous, orgy-haunted castles out of their brilliant fires, and was appalled at what he builded. Then it was that he giggled. It was all too impossible to be real. And yet there they blazed on the table before him, fanning the flame of the lust of him, and he giggled again.
'I guess we might as well count 'em,' Matt said suddenly, tearing himself away from his own visions. 'You watch me an' see that it's square, because you an' me has got to be on the square, Jim. Understand?'
Jim did not like this, and betrayed it in his eyes, while Matt did not like what he saw in his partner's eyes.
'Understand?' Matt repeated, almost menacingly.
'Ain't we always ben square?' the other replied, on the defensive because of the treachery already whispering in him.
'It don't cost nothin', bein' square in hard times,' Matt retorted. 'It's bein' square in prosperity that counts. When we ain't got nothin', we can't help bein' square. We're prosperous now, an' we've got to be business men- honest business men. Understand?'
'That's the talk for me,' Jim approved, but deep down in the meagre soul of him,-and in spite of him,-wanton and lawless thoughts were stirring like chained beasts.
Matt stepped to the food shelf behind the two-burner kerosene cooking stove. He emptied the tea from a paper bag, and from a second bag emptied some red peppers. Returning to the table with the bags, he put into them the two sizes of small diamonds. Then he counted the large gems and wrapped them in their tissue paper and chamois skin.
'Hundred an' forty-seven good-sized ones,' was his inventory; 'twenty real big ones; two big boys and one whopper; an' a couple of fistfuls of teeny ones an' dust.'
He looked at Jim.
'Correct,' was the response.
He wrote the count out on a slip of memorandum paper, and made a copy of it, giving one slip to his partner and retaining the other.
'Just for reference,' he said.
Again he had recourse to the food shelf, where he emptied the sugar from a large paper bag. Into this he thrust the diamonds, large and small, wrapped it up in a bandanna handkerchief, and stowed it away under his pillow. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes.
'An' you think they're worth a hundred thousan'?' Jim asked, pausing and looking up from the unlacing of his shoe.
'Sure,' was the answer. 'I seen a dance-house girl down in Arizona once, with some big sparklers on her. They wasn't real. She said if they was she wouldn't be dancin'. Said they'd be worth all of fifty thousan', an' she didn't have a dozen of 'em all told.'
'Who'd work for a livin'?' Jim triumphantly demanded. 'Pick an' shovel work!' he sneered. 'Work like a dog all my life, an' save all my wages, an' I wouldn't have half as much as we got tonight.'
'Dish washin's about your measure, an' you couldn't get more'n twenty a month an' board. Your figgers is 'way off, but your point is well taken. Let them that likes it, work. I rode range for thirty a month when I was young an' foolish. Well, I'm older, an' I ain't ridin' range.'
He got into bed on one side. Jim put out the light and followed him in on the other side.
'How's your arm feel?' Jim queried amiably.
Such concern was unusual, and Matt noted it, and replied-
'I guess there's no danger of hydrophoby. What made you ask?'
Jim felt in himself a guilty stir, and under his breath he cursed the other's way of asking disagreeable questions; but aloud he answered-
'Nothin', only you seemed scared of it at first. What are you goin' to do with your share, Matt?'
'Buy a cattle ranch in Arizona an' set down an' pay other men to ride range for me. There's some several I'd like to see askin' a job from me, damn them! An' now you shut your face, Jim. It'll be some time before I buy that ranch. Just now I'm goin' to sleep.'
But Jim lay long awake, nervous and twitching, rolling about restlessly and rolling himself wide awake every time he dozed. The diamonds still blazed under his eyelids, and the fire of them hurt. Matt, in spite of his heavy nature, slept lightly, like a wild animal alert in its sleep; and Jim noticed, every time he moved, that his partner's body moved sufficiently to show that it had received the impression and that it was trembling on the verge of awakening. For that matter, Jim did not know whether or not, frequently, the other was awake. Once, quietly, betokening complete consciousness, Matt said to him: 'Aw, go to sleep, Jim. Don't worry about them jools. They'll keep.' And Jim had thought that at that particular moment Matt had been surely asleep.
In the late morning Matt was awake with Jim's first movement, and thereafter he awoke and dozed with him until midday, when they got up together and began dressing.
'I'm goin' out to get a paper an' some bread,' Matt said. 'You boil the coffee.'
As Jim listened, unconsciously his gaze left Matt's face and roved to the pillow, beneath which was the bundle wrapped in the bandanna handkerchief. On the instant Matt's face became like a wild beast's.
'Look here, Jim,' he snarled. 'You've got to play square. If you do me dirt, I'll fix you. Understand? I'd eat you, Jim. You know that. I'd bite right into your throat an' eat you like that much beefsteak.'
