did I not hand you over at once three nights ago?
Believe me, my young friend, I should have a very good reason ready, a
dozen, if necessary, if it came to that. But we are borrowing trouble,
are we not? We shall not come to that--eh?"

For a moment it seemed to Jimmie Dale, as he watched, that Burton would
hurl himself upon the other. White to the lips, the muscles of his face
twitching, Burton clenched his fists and leaned over the table--and
then, with sudden revulsion of emotion, he drew back once more, and once
more came that choked sob:

"You'll pay for this, Isaac--your turn will come for this!

"I have been threatened very often," snapped the other contemptuously.
"Bah, what are threats! I laugh at them--as I always will." Then, with
a quick change of front, his voice a sudden snarl: "Well, we have
talked enough. You have your choice. The stones or--eh? And it is
to-night--NOW!"

The old pawnbroker sprawled back in his chair, a cunning leer on his
vicious face, a gleam of triumph, greed, in the beady, ratlike eyes that
never wavered from the other. Burton, moisture oozing from his forehead,
stood there, hesitant, staring back at old Isaac, half in a fascinated
gaze, half as though trying to read some sign of weakness in the bestial
countenance that confronted him. And then, very slowly, in an automatic,
machine-like way, his hand groped into the inside pocket of his
vest--and old Isaac cackled out in derision.

"So! You thought you could bluff me, eh--you thought you could fool old
Isaac! Bah! I read you like a book! Did I not tell you a while back that
you had them in your pocket? I know your kind, my young friend; I know
your kind very well indeed--it is my business. You would not have
dared to come here to-night without the price. So! You took them this
afternoon as we agreed. Yes, yes; you did well. You will not regret it.
And now let me see them"--his voice rose eagerly--"let me see them now,
my young friend."

"Yes, I took them." Burton spoke listlessly. "God help me!"

Old Isaac, quivering, excited, like a different creature now, sprang
from his chair, and, as Burton drew a long, flat, leather case from
his pocket, snatched it from the other's hand. His fingers in their
rapacious haste could not at first manipulate the catch, and then
finally, with the case open, he bent over the table feverishly. The
light reflected back as from some living mass of crimson fire, now
shading darkly, now glowing i