"Square?" laughed Matt. "Why, Neb, we're a whole lot more than square. How much do you think that ruby's worth?"
"Kain't be hit's worf mo' dan ten dollahs, I reckons," he guessed.
"It's worth thousands of dollars, Neb!"
"Go 'long wif yo' foolishness! Dat red thing kain't be worf all dat money, nohow. Yo's foolin' de pore ole moke."
"It's the truth, Neb."
Tsan Ti, jabbering wildly, arose from his bended knees and pulled his alligator-skin pouch from his blouse.
"Excellent stranger of the dusky race," said he, "I gather from what I hear that I am in your debt for the recovery of the Eye of Buddha. Will it insult you if I offer, of my goodness of heart, five hundred dollars?"
Neb Hogan nearly fell from General Jackson's back.
"Whut's dat he's er-sayin' tuh me?" he asked, rolling up the whites of his eyes. "Talkin' 'bout five—five hunnerd dollahs, en 'bout insultin' me wif it. By golly, Ah's brack, but Ah don't 'low no yalluh trash tuh mek spo't ob me. Somebody hole mah mu-el twill Ah climb down. Five hunnerd dollahs! Ah won't 'low no Chinymun tuh say no such thing. Ah—Ah——"
Words died on the old negro's lips. Tsan Ti had pushed a bundle of money up in front of his face, and Neb was gazing at the bills like one demented.