"How did you make out, Dashington?" asked Jurgens, in his anxiety getting up and leaning over the side of the car.
"Easy money," answered the youth. "I had my brace right with me, and the way I took that high jump calls for a hand."
"You got the diamonds?"
"Ain't I telling you?"
"Take them, Whistler. Then both of you pile in and we'll be going—and we'll have to go hard and fast, at that."
Dashington dug the bag out from under his sweater.
"You're all jerry to this," said he, as he reached out the bag to Whistler, "that I come in for a big bunch of the dazzlers, and that——"
"There's one of your dazzlers, my gay buck!"
Whistler, taking the bag in his left hand, struck out with his right. Dashington, the breath jolted out of him, staggered back.
"And there's another!"