Short Stories
"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 judg-
ment.
"A thousan' your grandmother," was Matt's scornful rejoin-
der. "'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 'cm."
Matt's eyes were beginning to sparkle, though sombrely, as
his phlegmatic nature woke up.
"I told you I didn't cast think how fat it was," he mur-
mured in a low voice.
"What a killin'! What a killin'!" was the other's more ecstat-
ic utterance.
"I almost forgot," Matt said, thrusting his hand into his
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