When God Laughs by Jack London (recommended books to read TXT) 📕

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.”

His sunburned skin was black with the surge of blood in it, and his tobacco-stained teeth were exposed by the snarling lips. Jim shivered and involuntarily cowered. There was death in the man he looked at. Only the night before that black-faced man had killed another with his hands, and it had not hurt his sleep. And in his own heart Jim was aware of a sneaking guilt, of a train of thought that merited all that was threatened.

Matt passed out, leaving him still shivering. Then a hatred twisted his own face, and he softly hurled savage curses at the door. He remembered the jewels, and hastened to the bed, feeling under the pillow for the bandanna bundle. He crushed it with his fingers to make certain that it still contained the diamonds. Assured that Matt had not carried them away, he looked toward the kerosene stove with a guilty start. Then he hurriedly lighted it, filled the coffeepot at the sink, and put it over the flame.

The coffee was boiling when Matt returned, and while the latter cut the bread and put a slice of butter on the table, Jim poured out the coffee. It was not until he sat down and had taken a few sips of the coffee, that Matt pulled out the morning paper from his pocket.

“We was way off,” he said. “I told you I didn’t dast figger out how fat it was. Look at that.”

He pointed to the headlines on the first page.

“Swift nemesis on Bujannoff’s track,” they read. “murdered in his sleep after robbing his partner.”

“There you have it!” Matt cried. “He robbed his partner⁠—robbed him like a dirty thief.”

“Half a million of jewels missin’,” Jim read aloud. He put the paper down and stared at Matt.

“That’s what I told you,” the latter said. “What in hell do we know about jools? Half a million!⁠—an’ the best I could figger it was a hundred thousan’. Go on an’ read the rest of it.”

They read on silently, their heads side by side, the untouched coffee growing cold; and ever and anon one or the other burst forth with some salient printed fact.

“I’d like to seen Metzner’s face when he opened the safe at the store this mornin’,” Jim gloated.

“He hit the high places right away for Bujannoff’s house,” Matt explained. “Go on an’ read.”

“Was to have sailed last night at ten on the Sajoda for the South Seas⁠—steamship delayed by extra freight⁠—”

“That’s why we caught ’m in bed,” Matt interrupted. “It was just luck⁠—like pickin’ a fifty-to-one winner.”

“Sajoda sailed at six this mornin’⁠—”

“He didn’t catch her,” Matt said. “I saw his alarm-clock was set at five. That’d given ’m plenty of time⁠ ⁠… only I come along an’ put the kibosh on his time. Go on.”

“Adolph Metzner in despair⁠—the famous Haythorne pearl necklace⁠—magnificently assorted pearls⁠—valued by experts at from fifty to seventy thousan’ dollars.”

Jim broke off to swear vilely and solemnly, concluding with, “Those damn oyster-eggs worth all that money!”

He licked his lips and added, “They was beauties an’ no mistake.”

“Big Brazilian gem,” he read on. “Eighty thousan’ dollars⁠—many valuable gems of the first water⁠—several thousan’ small diamonds well worth forty thousan’.”

“What you don’t know about jools is worth knowin’,” Matt smiled good-humouredly.

“Theory of the sleuths,” Jim read. “Thieves must have known⁠—cleverly kept watch on Bujannoff’s actions⁠—must have learned his plan and trailed him to his house with the fruits of his robbery⁠—”

“Clever⁠—hell!” Matt broke out. “That’s the way reputations is made⁠ ⁠… in the noospapers. How’d we know he was robbin’ his pardner?”

“Anyway, we’ve got the goods,” Jim grinned. “Let’s look at ’em again.”

He assured himself that the door was locked and bolted, while Matt brought out the bundle in the bandanna and opened it on the table.

“Ain’t they beauties, though!” Jim exclaimed at sight of the pearls; and for a time he had eyes only for them. “Accordin’ to the experts, worth from fifty to seventy thousan’ dollars.”

“An’ women like them things,” Matt commented. “An’ they’ll do everything to get ’em⁠—sell themselves, commit