Matt passed out， leaving him still shivering. Then ahatred twisted his own face， and he softly hurled savagecurses at the door. He remembered the jewels， andhastened to the bed， feeling under the pillow for thebandanna bundle. He crushed it with his fingers to makecertain that it still contained the diamonds. Assuredthat Matt had not carried them away， he looked towardthe kerosene stove with a guilty start. Then he hurriedlylighted it， filled the coffee-pot at the sink， and put it overthe flame.
The coffee was boiling when Matt returned， and whilethe latter cut the bread and put a slice of butter on thetable， Jim poured out the coffee. It was not until he satdown and had taken a few sips of the coffee， that Mattpulled out the morning paper from his pocket.
“We was way off，” he said. “I told you I didn’t dast figgerout how fat it was. Look at that.”
He pointed to the head-lines on the first page.
“SWIFT NEMESIS ON BUJANNOFF’S TRACK，” theyread. “MURDERED IN HIS SLEEP AFTER ROBBING HISPARTNER.”
“There you have it！” Matt cried. “He robbed hispartner—robbed him like a dirty thief.”
“Half a million of jewels missin’，” Jim read aloud. He putthe paper down and stared at Matt.
“That’s what I told you，” the latter said. “What in helldo we know about jools？ Half a million！ —an’ the best Icould figger it was a hundred thousan’. Go on an’ read therest of it.”
They read on silently， their heads side by side， theuntouched coffee growing cold； and ever and anon one orthe other burst forth with some salient printed fact.
“I’d like to seen Metzner’s face when he opened the safeat the store this mornin’，” Jim gloated.
“He hit the high places right away for Bujannoff ’shouse，” Matt explained. “Go on an’ read.”
“Was to have sailed last night at ten on the Sajoda forthe South Seas—steamship delayed by extra freight—”
“That’s why we caught ’m in bed，” Matt interrupted. “Itwas just luck—like pickin’ a fifty-to-one winner.”
“Sajoda sailed at six this mornin’ —”
“He didn’t catch her，” Matt said. “I saw his alarm-clockwas set at five. That’d given ’m plenty of time ... only Icome along an’ put the kibosh on his time. Go on.”
“Adolph Metzner in despair—the famous Haythornepearl necklace—magnificently assorted pearls—valued byexperts at from fifty to seventy thousan’ dollars.”
Jim broke off to swear vilely and solemnly， concludingwith， “Those damn oyster-eggs worth all that money！”
He licked his lips and added， “They was beauties an’ nomistake.”
“Big Brazilian gem，” he read on. “Eighty thousan’
dollars—many valuable gems of the first water—severalthousan’ small diamonds well worth forty thousan’.”
“What you don’t know about jools is worth knowin’，”
Matt smiled good-humouredly.
“Theory of the sleuths，” Jim read. “Thieves must haveknown—cleverly kept watch on Bujannoff’s actions—musthave learned his plan and trailed him to his house with thefruits of his robbery—”
“Clever—hell！” Matt broke out. “That’s the way reputationsis made ... in the noospapers. How’d we know he wasrobbin’ his pardner？”
“Anyway， we’ve got the goods，” Jim grinned. “Let’s lookat ’em again.”
He assured himself that the door was locked and bolted，while Matt brought out the bundle in the bandanna andopened it on the table.
“Ain’t they beauties， though！” Jim exclaimed at sightof the pearls； and for a time he had eyes only for them.
“Accordin’ to the experts， worth from fifty to seventythousan’ dollars.”
“An’ women like them things，” Matt commented. “An’
they’ll do everything to get ’em—sell themselves， commitmurder， anything.”
“Just like you an’ me.”
“Not on your life，” Matt retorted. “I’ll commit murderfor ’em， but not for their own sakes， but for sake of whatthey’ll get me. That’s the difference. Women want thejools for themselves， an’ I want the jools for the women an’
such things they’ll get me.”
“Lucky that men an’ women don’t want the samethings，” Jim remarked.
“That’s what makes commerce，” Matt agreed； “peoplewantin’ different things.”
In the middle of the afternoon Jim went out to buy food.
While he was gone， Matt cleared the table of the jewels，wrapping them up as before and putting them under thepillow. Then he lighted the kerosene stove and started toboil water for coffee. A few minutes later， Jim returned.
“Most surprising，” he remarked. “Streets， an’ stores， an’
people just like they always was. Nothin’ changed. An’ mewalking along through it all a millionaire. Nobody lookedat me an’ guessed it.”
Matt grunted unsympathetically. He had little comprehensionof the lighter whims and fancies of his partner’s imagination.
“Did you get a porterhouse？” he demanded.
“Sure， an’ an inch thick. It’s a peach. Look at it.”
He unwrapped the steak and held it up for the other’sinspection. Then he made the coffee and set the table，while Matt fried the steak.
“Don’t put on too much of them red peppers，” Jimwarned. “I ain’t used to your Mexican cookin’. You alwaysseason too hot.”
Matt grunted a laugh and went on with his cooking. Jimpoured out the coffee， but first， into the nicked china cup，he emptied a powder he had carried in his vest pocketwrapped in a rice-paper. He had turned his back for themoment on his partner， but he did not dare to glancearound at him. Matt placed a newspaper on the table， andon the newspaper set the hot frying-pan. He cut the steakin half， and served Jim and himself.
“Eat her while she’s hot，” he counselled， and with knifeand fork set the example.
“She’s a dandy，” was Jim’s judgment， after his firstmouthful. “But I tell you one thing straight. I’m never goin’
to visit you on that Arizona ranch， so you needn’t ask me.”
“What’s the matter now？” Matt asked.
“Hell’s the matter，” was the answer. “The Mexicancookin’ on your ranch’d be too much for me. If I’ve gothell a-comin’ in the next life， I’m not goin’ to torment myinsides in this one. Damned peppers！”
He smiled， expelled his breath forcibly to cool hisburning mouth， drank some coffee， and went on eating thesteak.
“What do you think about the next life anyway， Matt？”