"It is propose, then, that we abandon our comrades Beck and Salzar to
the rifle of Mike Clinch?"
"Why not?" demanded Georgiades sullenly;--"we shall have worse to face
before we see the Place de l'Opera."
"There remains, also, Eddie Abrams," remarked Quintana.
Crooks never betray their attorney. Everybody expressed a willingness to
have the five shares of plunder properly assessed to satisfy the fee due
to Mr. Abrams.
"Ver' well," nodded Quintana, "are you satisfy, messieurs, to divide an'
disperse?"
Sard said, heavily, that they ought to stick together until they arrived
in New York.
Sanchez sneered, accusing Sard of wanting a bodyguard to escort him to
his own home. "In this accursed forest," he insisted, "five of us would
attract attention where one alone, with sufficient stealth, can slip
through into the open country."
"Two by two is better," said Picquet. "You, Sanchez, shall travel alone
if you desire----"
"Divide the gems first," growled Georgiades, "and then let each do what
pleases him."
"That," nodded Quintana, "is also my opinion. It is so settle.
Attention!" Two pistols were in his hands as by magic. With a slight
smile he laid them on the moss beside him.
He then spread a large white handkerchief flat on the ground; and, from
his pockets, he poured out the glittering cascade. Yet, like a feeding
panther, every sense remained alert to the slightest sound or movement
elsewhere; and when Georgiades grunted from excess emotion, Quintana's
right hand held a pistol before the grunt had ceased.
It was a serious business, this division of loot; every reckless visage
reflected the strain of the situation.
Quintana, both pistols in his hands, looked down at the scintillating
heap of jewels.
"I estimate two and one quartaire million of dollaires," he said simply.
"It has been agree that I accep' for me the erosite gem known as The
Flaming Jewel. In addition, messieurs, it has been agree that I accep'
for myse'f one part in five of the remainder."
A fierce silence reigned. Every wolfish eye was on the leader. He
smiled, rested his pair of pistols on either knee.
"Is there," he asked softly, "any gentleman who shall objec'?"
"Who," demanded Georgiades hoarsely, "is to divide for us?"
"It is for such purpose," explained Quintana suavely, "that my frien',
Emanuel Sard, has arrive. Monsieur Sard is a brokaire of diamon's, as
all know ver' well. Therefore, it shall be our frien' Sard who will
divide for us what we have gain to-day by our--industry."
The savage tension broke with a laugh at the word chosen by Quintana to
express their efforts of the morning.
Sard had been standing with one fat hand flat against the trunk of a
tree. Now, at a nod from Quintana, he squatted down, and, with the same
hand that had been resting against the tree, he spread out the pile of
jewels into a flat layer.
As he began to divide this into five parts, still using the flat of his
pudgy hand, something poked him lightly in the ribs. It was the muzzle
of one of Quintana's pistols.
Sard, ghastly pale, looked up. His palm, sticky with balsam gum,
quivered in Quintana's grasp.
"I was going to scrape it off," he gasped. "The tree was sticky----"
Quintana, with the muzzle of his pistol, detached half a dozen diamonds
and rubies that clung to the gum on Mr. Sard's palm.
"Wash!" he said drily.
Sard, sweating with fear, washed his right hand with whiskey from his
pocket-flask, and dried it for general inspection.
"My God," he protested tremulously, "it was accidental, gentlemen. Do
you think I'd try to get away with anything like that----"
Quintana coolly shoved him aside and with the barrel of his pistol he
pushed the flat pile of gems into five separate heaps. Only he and
Georgiades knew that a magnificent diamond had been lodged in the muzzle
of his pistol. The eyes of the Greek flamed with rage at the trick, but
he awaited the division before he should come to any conclusion.
Quintana coolly picked out The Flaming Jewel and pocketed it. Then, to
each man he indicated the heap which was to be his portion.
A snarling wrangle instantly began, Sanchez objecting to rubies and
demanding more emeralds, and Picquet complaining violently concerning
the smallness of the diamonds allotted him.
Sard's trained eyes appraised every allotment. Without weighing, and,
lacking time and paraphernalia for expert examination, he was inclined
to think the division fair enough.
Quintana got to his feet lithely.
"For me," he said, "it is finish. With my frien' Sard I shall now
depart. Messieurs, I embrace and salute you. A bientot in Paris--if it
be God's will! Donc--au revoir, les amis, et a la bonheur! Allons! Each
for himself and gar' aux flics!"
Sard, seized with a sort of still terror, regarded Quintana with
enormous eyes. Torn between dismay of being left alone in the
wilderness, and a very natural fear of any single companion, he did not
know what to say or do.
En masse, the gang were too distrustful of one another to unite on
robbing any individual. But any individual might easily rob a companion
when alone with him.
"Why--why can't we all go together," he stammered. "It is safer,
surer----"
"I go with Quintana and you," interrupted Georgiades, smilingly; his
mind on the diamond in the muzzle of Quintana's pistol.
"I do not invite you," said Quintana. "But come if it pleases you."
"I also prefer to come with you others," growled Sanchez. "To roam alone
in this filthy forest does not suit me."
Picquet shrugged his shoulders, turned on his heel in silence. They
watched him moving away all alone, eastward. When he had disappeared
among the trees, Quintana looked inquiringly at the others.
"Eh, bien, non alors!" snarled Georgiades suddenly. "There are too many
in your trupeau, mon capitaine. Bonne chance!"
He turned and started noisily in the direction taken by Picquet.
They watched him out of sight; listened to his careless trample after he
was lost to view. When at length the last distant sound of his retreat
had died away in the stillness, Quintana touched Sard with the point of
his pistol.
"Go first," he said suavely.
"For God's sake, be a little careful of your gun----"
"I am, my dear frien'. It is of _you_ I may become careless. You will
mos' kin'ly face south, and you will be kin' sufficient to start
immediate. Tha's what I mean.... I thank you.... Now, my frien',
Sanchez! Tha's correc'! You shall follow my frien' Sard ver' close. Me,
I march in the rear. So we shall pass to the eas' of thees Star Pon',
then between the cross-road an' Ghos' Lake; an' then we shall repose;
an' one of us, en vidette, shall discover if the Constabulary have
patrol beyon'.... Allons! March!"