Flowing Gold | Page 8

here." Coverly drew from his pocket a letter written in a painfully cramped hand upon cheap note paper, and this he spread out for his companion to read. "There's an example in point."
The letter, which bore the Ranger postmark, ran as follows:
DERE SIR--Your store has bin rekomend to me for dimons and I want some for my wife and dauter. Send me prises on rings of large sises.
Yours truley GUS BRISKOW.
"Um-m! Who is Mr. Briskow?"
Coverly shrugged. "Probably some nester who never saw a hundred dollars all in one place until recently. When they strike oil, they buy diamonds, nice large yellow ones, as a rule; then as the money continues to flow in, they pay off the mortgage and buy a bank--or an interest in one."
"In Heaven's name, introduce me to the opulent Gus Briskow."
"I wish I might. But I don't expect to make his acquaintance. The head of our firm is away and I haven't a man I'd dare trust to send out into the field. Usually I handle these inquiries myself when the victim can't tear himself away from contemplating the miraculous flow of liquid gold long enough to come here. I take an assortment of gems with me and beard the nouveau riche right on his derrick floor. Why, I've carried as much as a hundred thousand dollars' worth of merchandise on some of my trips." Coverly sighed regretfully. "Tough luck! Too bad you're not a good jewelry salesman?"
"I am," Gray declared. "I can sell anything. As for diamonds--I've bought enough in my time to know their value."
Coverly laughed in ready agreement with this statement. "Gad! I'm sore at missing this sale."
"You needn't miss it. I'll go."
"Don't kid an unfortunate--"
"I'm not joking. If it's worth while, pack up your saffron solitaires--all that you dare trust me with--and I'll be your gentlemanly representative."
"Worth while? Good Lord! I'd probably get a ten-thousand-dollar order!"
"Very well. It's settled." Gray's decision had been quickly made. Opportunity had knocked--he was not one to deny her admission, no matter how queer her garb. A hundred thousand dollars' worth of gems! The very figures intrigued him and--diamonds are readily negotiable. There would be a natural risk attached to the handling of so large an amount. A thousand things might happen to a treasure chest of that size. Gray began to believe that his luck had changed.
"Where does Mr. Briskow live?" he inquired.
"Out beyond Ranger, somewhere. But--"
"I'm going to visit that field, anyhow. This will give me an excuse."
"Nonsense!" The jeweler did not like to have fun poked at him. For some time he refused to take the offer seriously, and even when his host insisted that he would enjoy the lark, he expostulated: "Why, the idea is ridiculous! You--Calvin Gray, the financier, peddling jewelry? Ha! Outside of the fact that you wouldn't, couldn't do it, it's not the safest thing in the world to carry a small fortune in stones through the oil fields."
"Of course you insure it against theft?"
"That's the point. We can't. Have you ever heard of 'high- jackers'? That's the Texas term for hold-up men, robbers. Well, the country is full of them."
"Excellent! There no longer is any question about my going," Gray announced, firmly. "I am bored; I am stale; a thrill, of whatever sort, would stir my blood. Animated by purely selfish motives, I now insist upon a serious consideration of my offer. First, you say I 'wouldn't, couldn't'; I assure you that I would, could--and shall, provided I can qualify as a salesman."
Coverly admitted without much argument that anybody could probably effect a sale in this instance, if the diamonds were plainly marked with their prices; it would be a mere question of displaying the goods. That was not the point. Gray was a rich, a busy man--the idea was fantastic.
"Why, you're offering to do this as an accommodation to an old friend, and your time is probably worth more than our whole profit on the sale would amount to."
"My time is worth nothing. If you hesitate to intrust this king's ransom to me, I'll go personally responsible for its value. That's fair, isn't it?"
"Don't be silly. How could I pay you if you did go?"
"Um-m!" This idea, it seemed, had not occurred to Mr. Gray. It was plain that money meant nothing to him.
"You see? We couldn't permit--"
"I have it. We'll divorce friendship and sentiment entirely from the discussion and reduce it to a strictly business basis. You shall ease your conscience by paying my traveling expenses. The emotional suspense that I undergo shall be my reward. I'll take my commission in thrills."
This offer evoked a light laugh from Gray's guest. "You'd get enough of 'em," he asserted. "I'll advance a mild one, on account, at this moment. Notice the couple dining at the third table to your