“It’s a great risk,” said the pawnbroker. “A stone like that generally makes some noise.”
“Anything good is risky,” said the other somewhat contemptuously. “You don’t expect to get a windfall like that without any drawback, do you?”
He took the stone in his hand again, and eyed it lovingly. “It’s from the East somewhere,” he said quietly. “It’s badly cut, but it’s a diamond of diamonds, a king of gems.”
“I don’t want any trouble with the police,” said the pawnbroker, as he took it from him.
“You are talking now as though you have just made a small advance on a stolen overcoat,” said his friend impatiently. “A risk like that—and you have done it before now—is a foolish one to run; the game is not worth the candle. But this—why it warms one’s blood to look at it.”
“Well, I’ll leave it with you,” said the pawnbroker. “If you do well with it I ought not to want to work any more.”
The other placed it in an inside pocket, while the owner watched him anxiously.
“Don’t let any accident happen to you to-night, Levi,” he said nervously.
“Thanks for your concern,” said Levi grimacing. “I shall probably be careful for my own sake.”
He buttoned up his coat, and, drinking a glass of hot whisky, went out whistling. He had just reached the door when the pawnbroker called him back.