Read R. Holmes & Co. Page 6


  "Here's your check, Jenkins," said Raffles Holmes, handing me a draft for$5000. "The gems were found to-day in the water-cooler in the work-room, andGaffany & Co. paid up like gentlemen."

  "And the thief?" I asked.

  "Under arrest," said Raffles Holmes. "We caught him fishing for them."

  "And your paste jewels, where are they?"

  "I wish I knew," he answered, his face clouding over. "In the excitement ofthe moment of the arrest I got 'em mixed with the originals I had lastnight, and they didn't give me time or opportunity to pick 'em out. The fourwere mounted immediately and sent under guard to the purchaser. Gaffany &Co. didn't want to keep them a minute longer than was necessary. But thepurchaser is so rich he will never have to sell 'em--so, you see, Jenkins,we're as safe as a church."

  "Your friend Robinstein was a character, Holmes," said I.

  "Yes," sighed Holmes. "Poor chap--he was a great loss to his friends. Hetaught me the art of making paste gems when I was in Paris. I miss him likethe dickens."

  "Miss him!" said I, getting anxious for Robinstein. "What happened? Heisn't--"

  "Dead," said Holmes. "Two years ago--dear old chap."

  "Oh, come now, Holmes," I said. "What new game is this you are rigging onme? I met him only five nights ago--and you know it."

  "Oh--that one," said Raffles Holmes, with a laugh. "_I_ was thatRobinstein."

  "You?" I cried.

  "Yes, me," said Holmes. "You don't suppose I'd let a third party into oursecret, do you?"

  And then he gave me one of those sweet, wistful smiles that made the wonderof the man all the greater.

  "I wish to the dickens I knew whether these were real or paste!" hemuttered, taking the extra pendants from his wallet as he spoke. "I don'tdare ask anybody, and I haven't got any means of telling myself."

  "Give them to me," said I, sternly, noting a glitter in his eye thatsuggested the domination for the moment of the Raffles in him.

  "Tush, Jenkins," he began, uneasily.

  "Give them to me, or I'll brain you, Holmes," said I, standing over him witha soda-water bottle gripped in my right hand, "for your own good. Come, giveup."

  He meekly obeyed.

  "Come now, get on your hat," said I. "I want you to go out with me."

  "What for, Jenkins?" he almost snarled.

  "You'll see what for," said I.

  And Raffles Holmes obeying, we walked down to the river's edge, where Istood for a moment, and then hurled the remaining stones far out into thewaters.

  Holmes gave a gasp and then a sigh of relief.

  "There," I said. "It doesn't matter much to us now whether the confoundedthings were real or not."