"Five thousand! Five thousand to pay me for two years of planning, and the risk! You have brought more than that."
"Where is der ruby, Mr. Grattan?"
"Where you'll not find it until I see how much money you have in the satchel. Give it to Bunce. Bunce, you open the grip and count the money."
"Don't do that, please, Mr. Grattan! I have lost much money by der drop in——"
"Take it over and give it to Bunce."
Tremblingly, Goldstein got up with his precious satchel. His face was pallid, and he seemed scarcely able to move. He started toward the sailor; then, suddenly, when he was close to Pryne, he whirled and grabbed at the exposed revolver.
The satchel dropped, and Goldstein, with the fury of desperation, fought like a madman. It was his money he was fighting for—money that was, perhaps, dearer to him than life itself. Nothing else could have goaded him into such a mad attempt to escape from the hut.
Bunce sprang toward the struggling pair at the door, and Grattan also arose and stepped toward them.
This offered Matt a chance for a daring coup. Unseen in the excitement, and unheard because of the noise of the scuffle, he glided to the table and opened the box. Deftly he extracted one of the balls and allowed the box-cover to fall into place. The ball passed into his pocket.