Short Stories
paper. As he unfoIded 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.
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