There was another nod.
“Well, I’m inclined to believe you,” Jack announced, “but we don’t intend to let it go at that, you know. Have to do a little digging on our own account to make sure.”
He stepped aside and reached for the spade.
“What are you doing, Mr. Carter?” he called out softly.
But in a moment the other’s occupation was evident enough, for Gordon was leaning through the open door of the coupé and working, with trembling fingers, at the straps of one of the suit cases. The weight of the case left little or no doubt concerning the nature of its contents, but his greed had compelled him to take a look at the gold at the first opportunity, especially when he had found that both cases were only strapped, not locked.
“I wanted to be sure this was the stuff,” he replied to Cray’s question, and continued feverishly until the cover was raised.
It was gold beyond question—a great quantity of it.
Much of it was still done up in packages, just as it had come from the bank in Hattontown, but many of the packages had been broken open, either by accident, or because Simpson had wanted to feast his eyes on the thousands of bright, newly minted coins.
Cray looked over Green Eye’s shoulder for a moment.