"I have already eaten," he said. "Overeating in Mecca in the hot season
is not wise. Abraham, do you always wear so many rings on your fingers?"

"Oh, no," returned the Jew, "sometimes I wear them; sometimes I carry
them for months in my belt. This"--pointing to a huge band of ancient
workmanship--"is the most curious one of the lot. I got it for carrying
a bundle of manuscript from a man at Oman to your friend Amzi, here. It
seems that Amzi had once lived with him at Oman, but the man--I forget
his name--went inland to Teheran, or some other place in Persia, and
Amzi, after traveling about for two or three years, settled in Mecca.
This one"--and he pointed out the ring on which Yusuf's eyes were
fixed--"is the most expensive of the lot, but a stone fell out of it
once when I was carrying it in my belt."

"Did you not look in your belt for it?"

"No use; it had worked out between the stitches. I had no idea where I
lost it."

"Have you had that ring long?"

"Long! Why, that ring has not been off my person for fifteen years."

"I suppose you would not sell it?"

The peddler shrugged his shoulders, and looked up with a shrewd glance.

"That depends on how much money it would bring."