Tuco was silent. His jaw worked like maybe he wanted to say something, but his Judas tongue felt like a piece of dry leather that someone had clumsily tacked to the roof of his mouth.
Now, to say his thoughts immediately went to betrayal would be disingenuous. His first feeling was a sense of shared excitement—a wave of do you realize what you have there, complete with a stupid grin and a burst of adrenaline. Moments later, however, there was just an edge of something else in his expression. A glance that was almost nakedly calculating.
It was like Sad Hill all over again, only this time, all that was standing between him and a veritable fortune was a man with a stick. And, unfortunately for Belloq, even if the stick appeared to be very shiny and very pointy, he just so happened to be a man with a gun.
"Generous?" he began, punctuating with a short, sharp laugh. "Sure... But, uh... tell me, friend: what makes you so sure Tuco isn't a thief, too?"
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Now, to say his thoughts immediately went to betrayal would be disingenuous. His first feeling was a sense of shared excitement—a wave of do you realize what you have there, complete with a stupid grin and a burst of adrenaline. Moments later, however, there was just an edge of something else in his expression. A glance that was almost nakedly calculating.
It was like Sad Hill all over again, only this time, all that was standing between him and a veritable fortune was a man with a stick. And, unfortunately for Belloq, even if the stick appeared to be very shiny and very pointy, he just so happened to be a man with a gun.
"Generous?" he began, punctuating with a short, sharp laugh. "Sure... But, uh... tell me, friend: what makes you so sure Tuco isn't a thief, too?"