There was a sharp, quick cry from Thorold--and the muzzle of Jimmie
Dale's automatic swung like a flash to a level with the man's eyes. Old
Jake had crumpled up now in his chair, and was glaring wildly at the
little diamond-shaped piece of paper; he licked his lips with his
tongue, there was fear in his eyes.
"The Gray Seal! The Gray Seal!" he muttered hoarsely.
"I appear to be in luck to-night!" said Jimmie Dale again. "And"--he
put the money and the diamond pendant coolly in his pocket--"it would
be too bad if I didn't play it up, wouldn't it? It doesn't often come
as easy as this. Amazing carelessness to leave that outside door
unlocked! But, as I was saying, with such a lavish display of opulence
on the table, one is almost led to hope that there might be more where
that came from. Now--"
"I haven't got any more--not another cent! Honest, I haven't!" old Jake
cried hysterically. "I swear to God, I haven't, and--"
"You hold your tongue!" There was a sudden snarl in Jimmie Dale's low
tones. The man's voice was rising dangerously loud. "I'll attend to you
in a moment!" He swung on Thorold again; and, with his pistol pressed
close against the man, felt deftly and swiftly over the other in search
of weapons.
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