He tilted the muzzle of the rifle up. "You smart sonofabitch! I'll 'deal' you." "Uh, uh, uh," the hunter said, wagging a chiding finger. "Killing me won't help you one bit. His memory's even worse than mine." "Hold it Ben," Max said suddenly. "I got a pretty fair idea where it's hid." He pointed the shotgun toward the cliff. "Look over there, just above the water line. If that ain't the upper part of a cave of some kind, I'll eat it." "Blabbermouth!" the hunter said bitterly. "You hit 'er, Max," the sheriff crowed, "right on the nose. All right, smart boy. I heard you say the water wasn't more'n waist-deep, so you just lead us over there and start fishin' the green stuff out." A look of alarm came over his face. "You don't suppose the water's ruined it, do yuh?" The hunter shook his head, muttering, "It's in a waterproof chest. The diamonds are only in a basket, but water can't hurt them, anyhow." "Diamonds?" the sheriff bleated. "How many?" "Not more'n half a bushel at the most. We only took the biggest ones." He reached down to pick up the driftwood pole.
