"My friend Norton!" jeered the victor.
"And what do you want; some peaches?"
"A paper, my friend, a little secret of paper with invisible writing on it. We promise to give you something in exchange for it."
"What?" asked Jim with as much nonchalance as he could assume.
"Life."
"Search," said Jim. "You won't object to my smoking?" He began to roll a cigarette while they passed over him. He struck a match; the pleasant aroma of tobacco floated about his head.
"He's got it on him somewhere. I saw him take it. He's got his nerve with him."
The cigarette glowed. Jim smoked hurriedly.
Through every pocket they went. The contents of his wallet lay scattered at his feet; his watch dangled from the chain. The cigarette grew shorter and shorter. Suddenly one of the men stretched out a hand and whisked the cigarette from Jim's lips. He threw it to the floor and stamped out the coal.
"I thought so!" he exclaimed, holding out the scrap of burnt paper toward Braine.