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.