Before his question could be answered his exploring fingers encountered a chain of heavy linked gold about the Chinaman's neck, and he yanked at it.
"Wot's this?" he demanded.
For the first time, he might have seen a change come into their victim's expression. Exultantly observant, his partner directed him to snip the chain. When the chain had been removed by the practised use of a small pair of sharp nippers, the two crooks beheld at its end the most marvelous stone that they had ever seen. As large around as the rim of a tea cup, it covered Shorty's palm, while the gold chain glittered unheeded down from his hand. In the half-shadow of his hat, the opalescent lights flamed from the great jewel with a rapidity of changing fire which seemed alive—emerald, crimson, orange, pink and blue; fascinating, benumbing.
"My God! It's worth a million!" gasped Shorty.
Prince Chu's stern old lips curled slightly upward in their irony.
"Do not make a second mistake, my friend," he said. "In your dollars, it is worth ten millions. But if you should find it possible to dispose of the jewel, it would be worth your life."
"Wot's that!" the two exclaimed, almost in a word.
The Chinaman shrugged and smiled enigmatically.
"'Nother one uh yer Chink bluffs," mumbled Shorty.
"I ain't so sure," joined his partner meditatively. "But we better get movin'. Com' on! Stick 'er where she'll be safe, Shorty. Get that shotgun. Get both them water bags. That's it—both uv 'em. It's hot an' we'll need 'em," he added with a chuckle of grim significance.