“Yes; but it is wise to be sure you can lick the man you laugh at.” “Come down from your perch, Mike! You and I ain’t going to fall out.” “Then don’t be so infernally funny, that’s all.” “Who did you have the run-in with?” “Have you seen Cook lately?” “About an hour ago.” “He could about tell you whom I ran up against,” said Quick. “It wasn’t the detective?” “That’s just exactly who it was, and it all come of me standing as a friend by Enoch,” replied Mike. “He told me he would have been scooped but for you.” “Yes; and I hardly think he would stand by me if I was in a muss.” “Oh, yes, he would.” “Here’s a whole lot of duffers,” Quick waved his arm around, “and every one of them claims to be my dear friend. Did any of them go to the front for me? Not one.” He threw a look of withering scorn upon the habitues of the dive that were gathered at the bar. “I’m a pretty good friend,” he added, “when they are broke and want a drink.” “Boss,” said the bartender, “when we got to the back room, Burt Cromwell had out his gun.” “You shut up!” exclaimed Quick angrily; “or you will find yourself out of a job mighty soon!” Kidd threw some oil upon the troubled waters by inviting every one in the place to have a drink. Soon afterward he and the dive-keeper adjourned to the rear room, where they seated themselves. “What is there in the wind?” asked Mike, looking knowingly at his companion. “I do not understand.” “Of course you don’t, because you don’t want to.” “’Pon my soul, I don’t know what you are trying to get at!” “What has Enoch been doing? Now do you understand?” “I understand. My pal hasn’t been doing anything.” “That’s too thin.” “How too thin?” “Detectives ain’t going around arresting people unless they have some good reason for it,” said Quick. “I’m the party Burt Cromwell wants.” “You?” “Yes; and this chap ain’t going to get me,” remarked Kidd. “If he wants you, why did he try to arrest Enoch?” “He wanted to frighten him, more than anything else.” “Burt Cromwell knows Cook is not to be frightened by a bluff.” “He claimed Enoch was my accomplice in a little matter.” “Oh, that’s the way the cat jumps, is it?” said Mike. “Just about.” “Might I ask what the little matter is, without giving offense?” Kidd looked astonished. “Perhaps,” added the dive-keeper, “you don’t care to trust me. Is that it?” “Oh, no.” “It appears that way to me.” “Well,” said Dick, “the matter is simple enough. I lifted a diamond, and, when it is sold, why, Enoch and I will divide the proceeds.” “Is the jewel worth much?” “A few thousands.” “It must be a dandy.” Kidd had no idea of allowing Quick to know how valuable the Eye of Jobu was. Dick was wise in his generation, but he was not a match for his pal. As the saying goes, Cook knew more in a minute than the other knew in a year. “Yes,” said Kidd, “the stone is a very pretty one.” “Have you tried to sell it?”