“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!”