“Tricks on you!  Is it likely that I am going to play tricks upon my oldest friend?”

When he had gone—­he vanished, it seemed to me, with a somewhat doubtful visage—­I took the crystal to the window.  I drew the blind.  I let the sunshine fall on it.  I examined it again, closely and minutely, with the aid of my pocket lens.  It was a diamond; there could not be a doubt of it.  If, with my knowledge of stones, I was deceived, then I was deceived as never man had been deceived before.  My heart beat faster as I recognized the fact that I was holding in my hand what was, in all probability, a fortune for a man of moderate desires.  Of course, Pugh knew nothing of what I had discovered, and there was no reason why he should know.  Not the least!  The only difficulty was that if I kept my own counsel, and sold the stone and utilized the proceeds of the sale, I should have to invent a story which would account for my sudden accession to fortune.  Pugh knows almost as much of my affairs as I do myself.  That is the worst of these old friends!

When I joined Pugh I found him dancing up and down the floor like a bear upon hot plates.  He scarcely allowed me to put my nose inside the door before attacking me.

“Tress, give me what was in the box.”

“My dear Pugh, how do you know that there was something in the box to give you?”

“I know there was!”

“Indeed!  If you know that there was something in the box, perhaps you will tell me what that something was.”

He eyed me doubtfully.  Then, advancing, he laid upon my arm a hand which positively trembled.

“Tress, you—­you wouldn’t play tricks on an old friend.”

“You are right, Pugh, I wouldn’t, though I believe there have been occasions on which you have had doubts upon the subject.  By the way, Pugh, I believe that I am the oldest friend you have.”

“I—­I don’t know about that.  There’s—­there’s Brasher.”

“Brasher!  Who’s Brasher?  You wouldn’t compare my friendship to the friendship of such a man as Brasher?  Think of the tastes we have in common, you and I. We’re both collectors.”

“Ye-es, we’re both collectors.”

“I make my interests yours, and you make your interests mine.  Isn’t that so, Pugh?”

“Tress, what—­what was in the box?”

“I will be frank with you, Pugh.  If there had been something in the box, would you have been willing to go halves with me in my discovery?”

“Go halves!  In your discovery, Tress!  Give me what is mine!”

“With pleasure, Pugh, if you will tell me what is yours.”

“If—­if you don’t give me what was in the box I’ll—­I’ll send for the police.”

“Do!  Then I shall be able to hand to them what was in the box in order that it may be restored to its proper owner.”

“Its proper owner!  I’m its proper owner!”