Short Stories
"What in hell was he coin' 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 in the other's eyes. Matt did
not betray that he noted it, though he said:—
"What was you thinkin' about, Jim?"
Jm was a trifle awkward for the moment.
"Nothin'," he answered. "Only I was thinkin' just how fun-
ny 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 una-
ware 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 won-
drous, orgy-haunted castles out of their brilliant fires, and was
appalled at what he builded. Then it was that he giggled. It was
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