"Let's go and see how Goldstein is getting along," he suggested. "What became of that satchel, Joe?"
"We left it in the house—thought that was the safest place for it."
"We'll have to take care of that. It contains the money Goldstein brought to use in buying the Eye of Buddha."
Together Matt, McGlory, Tsan Ti and Sam Wing made their way back to the hut. Just as they reached the door Goldstein sprang to his feet, the buckthorn cane in his hand.
"Look at him!" exclaimed McGlory. "He's still locoed, Matt, and in about the same state of mind you and I were when we repaired that bursted tire, rode to the Mountain House, and went to sleep in the hammocks."
The diamond merchant's face was full of anger and apprehension. His clouded faculties were still possessed of the notion, it seemed, that his satchel of money continued to be the object of Grattan's designs.
Jumping at the log wall, Goldstein struck a terrific blow with the head of the cane.
"I hope he keeps hammering the wall," breathed the cowboy. "If he ever came at one of us like that we'd have to take him down and lash his hands and feet. Gee, but he's vicious."
Again and again Goldstein struck the logs with the cane. At last the head of the cane snapped and flew into fragments, and a glittering object flashed toward the door, struck Sam Wing and dropped downward. A gleam of sun caught the object, and it glowed like a huge drop of blood.
A chattering screech went up from Tsan Ti, and forthwith he slumped to his knees and picked the object up in his trembling hands.