“Yes, dat’s right. A hundred thousand plunks dey set him back. Dey’re de limit, ain’t dey? Say, won’t you really——”
“Spike, I’m surprised at you! Do you know you’re getting a regular Mephistopheles, Spike? Suppose I hadn’t an iron will, what would happen? You really must select your subjects of conversation more carefully. You’re bad company for the likes of me.”
Spike shuffled despondently.
“But, boss——”
Jimmy shook his head.
“It can’t be done, my lad.”
“But it can, boss,” protested Spike. “It’s dead easy. I’ve been up to de room, and I seen de box what de jools is kept in. Why, it’s de softest ever! We could get dem as easy as pullin’ de plug out of a bottle. Why, say, dere’s never been such a peach of a place for gettin’ hold of de stuff as dis house. Dat’s right, boss. Why, look what I got dis afternoon, just snoopin’ round and not really trying to get busy at all. It was just lying about.”
He plunged his hand into his pocket and drew it out again. As he unclosed his fingers Jimmy caught the gleam of precious stones.
“What the——” he gasped.
Spike was looking at his treasure-trove with an air of affectionate proprietorship.