Page:Raymond Spears--Diamond Tolls.djvu/158

 did he know that the dice were loaded against him. He thought he couldn't lose.

Macrado drove the boat and steered it while Frest took care of the cabin and prepared the meals. They stopped that evening in Veal Island Chute, and after supper they played cards over a folding table in the little cabin, which was not quite high enough for either one of them to stand erect, though Macrado was the taller, bulkier man of the two. They played late, Macrado grimly, Frest nervously.

Frest had never gone upon such an enterprise before. It was out of his line. Only the amount of the possible booty had lured him from his lowly system of depredations. The story of the stolen diamonds had taken firm hold on countless river minds, and countless pairs of eyes were on the lookout, as river rats and big fellows alike were gasping at the thought of such luck as getting them breaking their way.

Somehow, it would not be possible to tell just how, the impression had gone down the river that those diamonds of the Cincinnati mystery were somewhere on the river. Perhaps only two knew the fact for certain, but filtering minds had gathered from the river gossip, from the news of the papers, from strangers who had tripped out of the Ohio, and especially from that strange shooting episode in which had figured White Collar Dan—whose luck with diamonds was a