"We ain't fixed the lay all day for nothin'.

There ain't a soul on earth knows he's got any sparklers, 'cept us.

If there was, it would be different--then they'd know that was what whoever did it was after, see ?" The door was closed--the knob slowly, very, very slowly being released again.

From one of the leather pockets under Jimmie Dale's vest came a tiny steel instrument that he inserted in the key-hole.
The same voice spoke on: "That's what we're croaking him for, 'cause nobody knows about them diamonds, and so's he can't TELL anybody afterward that any were pinched.

An' that's why it's got to look like he just got tired of living and did it himself.