sparklers. Lawse! Somebody jes' got onto hit, an' they was jes' pickin's, yas, suh!"
"White Collar Dan come out the Ohio," Frest suggested, thoughtfully.
"Sho'!" Macrado turned and stared at the junker. "He was always lookin' around for di'monds."
"I see somebody took back half what was missin'—Goles, was hit?"
"Theh's on'y a hundred thousand worth aroun' now." Frest shook his head as though the outstanding gems were a meagre lot.
"Think what even a hundred thou'd do for a feller—two fellers!" Macrado protested. "Nobody knows how Dan got shot. That gal's got his boat! You s'pect he was working with someone?"
"I always hearn say—he told me so hisse'f, that he worked alone." Frest recalled: "I make a fair livin',' he said, right down in Arkansaw Old Mouth, I'm layin' off to make a big haul, an' then jes' live. That's what he said."
"Who's that looking for a big haul to live on?" a low voice demanded, and the two river men started from their chairs. In their absorbed interest they had not watched closely. Palura himself had sauntered near on his rubber soles.
"We was jes' talkin' about White Collar Dan. He's out the hospital!" Macrado showed Palura the item.
