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 on a little private business of my own. S'pose, now, I was taking that bit of shortage with me—what'll you lay against me getting it through?"

"Ten years on the Breakwater!" snapped the inspector, as he emptied his glass, and set it down with a bang on the counter.

"No, you don't," laughed Salter; "that's for me to lay. Now, look here, I'll lay you ten years on the Breakwater to a thousand pounds—that's only a hundred a year, and I think my time's a darned sight more valuable than that, so I'm giving you big odds—that I'll take that little lot through for all you can do to stop me."

As he spoke, he suddenly pulled his left hand out of his trousers pocket, and held it out to the inspector with the palm full of rough diamonds.

Lipinzki fairly gaped at the heap of glittering stones, but he lost neither his presence of