hard that his fingers opened from the pressure on the tendons. He turned with a snarl.
"What in hell are you trying to do?" he began, and then Lefty took a hand.
"It's you who's the bloody fool, Healy," he hissed. "You'll queer the whole deal. Look at 'im!"
Lyman's eyes were fairly blazing with such a concentration of contempt that Healy wilted.
"You, bein' my pardner, git a chance with th' rest," said Lyman. "Otherwise. …" He feebly lifted the fingers of one hand and the gesture was eloquent despite its physical uncertainty.
"I know what gold does to men," went on Lyman. "To th' best of 'em. I'm playin' this three ways or none."
Stone and Lefty went outside beneath the stars, waiting by the door. Lefty whistled softly.
"It's a rum go, hain't it?" he said, just above his breath. "Gives you th' creeps. Look at them stars, Stone. 'E says the gold is thick like the glitter in that streak. Think of it. Gawd!"
Stone looked up with him to where the gleaming scarf of the Milky Way was aureoled across the heavens. Then the door opened and Healy came out.
"In with you!" he said, panting. "You next, Lefty! The old fox is nutty, but I'm damned if I don't believe there's something in it." He turned to Stone as the Cockney disappeared.
"I've got my end of the dope," he said. "What
