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Chames." "Good. Better give me that lamp." There was no one in the passage. He raced softly along it to Sir Thomas Blunt's dressing room. He lit his lamp, and found the box without difficulty. Dropping the necklace in, he closed down the lid. "They'll want a new lock, I'm afraid," he said. "However!" He rose to his feet. "Jimmy!" said a startled voice. He whipped round.
He started as one who sees snakes in the grass. "What the " he gasped. Spike was looking at his treasure-trove with an air of affectionate proprietorship. "Where on earth did you get those?" asked Jimmy. "Out of one of de rooms. Dey belonged to one of de loidies. It was de easiest old t'ing ever, Mr. Chames. I went in when dere was nobody about, and dere dey were on de toible.
I might have known he'd be up to something like that." "Dat's right, Mr. Chames." "Of course you may be mistaken." "Not me, Mr. Chames." "Anyhow, I shall be seeing him at dinner. I can get talking to him afterward. I shall soon find out what his game is." For the moment, Molly was forgotten. The old reckless spirit was carrying him away. This thing was a deliberate challenge.
For four years their partnership had continued, and then, conducting a little adventure on his own account in Jimmy's absence, Spike had met with one of those accidents which may happen to any one. The police had gathered him in, and he had passed out of Jimmy's life. What was puzzling Jimmy was the problem of what to do with him now that he had reentered it. Mr. Chames was one man.
How much of de long green did youse pungle for it, Mr. Chames?" "I really can't remember," said Jimmy, with a laugh. "I could look up the bill and let you know. Seventy guineas, I fancy." "What's dat guineas? Is dat more dan a pound?" "A shilling more. Why?" Spike resumed his brushing. "What a lot of dude suits youse could get," he observed meditatively, "if youse had dose jools."
"I know." Silence again. "Two hundred thousand plunks," breathed Spike. "What a necklace!" thought Jimmy. "Keggs told me dat. De old gazebo what hands out de long woids. I could find out where dey're kept dead easy. "What a king of necklaces!" thought Jimmy. "Shall I, Mr. Chames?" "Shall you what?" asked Jimmy, coming out of his thoughts with a start.
So it's up to me, I says, 'cos Mr. Chames'll be tickled to deat', all right, all right, if we can git away wit' dem. So I " Jimmy gave tongue with an energy which amazed his faithful follower. "Spike! You lunatic! Didn't I tell you there was nothing doing when you wanted to take those things the other day?" "Sure, Mr. Chames. But dose was little dinky t'ings. Dese poils is boids, for fair."
"De mug what came dis afternoon. Ole man McEachern brought him. I seed Miss Molly talking to him." "The chap from the inn? Why, that's an old New York friend of McEachern's." "Anyhow, Mr. Chames, he's a sleut'. I can tell 'em by deir eyes and deir feet, and de whole of dem." An idea came into Jimmy's mind. "I see," he said. "Our friend McEachern has got him in to spy on us.
And Molly had stood up for him, till her father had apologized confusedly, raging inwardly the while at his helplessness. It was after that "Mr. Chames," said Spike. Jimmy's wits returned. "Hullo?" he said. "Mr. Chames, what's doing here? Put me next to de game. Is it de old lay? You'll want me wit' youse, I guess?" Jimmy laughed, and shut the door on his dreams.
"Why, find out where de loidy keeps de jools." "Confound you, Spike! How often am I to tell you that I have done with all that sort of thing forever? I never want to see or touch another stone that doesn't belong to me. I don't want to hear about them. They don't interest me." "Sorry, Mr. Chames. But dey must cop de limit for fair, dose jools. Two hundred t'ousand plunks! What's dat dis side?"
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