"Gad! the pater's private keys!" gasped Lord James. "You don't tell me
the rascal was imbecile enough to keep those keys in his pocket?--
certain means of identification if he'd been searched!"

"What!" shouted Blake. "Then the duke he cleaned out was your dad.
_Whew!_"

He whirled the mud-stoppered jug overhead and dashed it down at his
feet. From amidst the shattered fragments he caught up a dirty cloth
that was quilted across in small squares. He held it out to Lord
James.

"There you are, Jimmy--my compliments and more or less of your family
heirlooms."

"My word!" murmured the earl, catching eagerly at the cloth. "You got
the loot from him? That's like you, Tom!"

"Look out!" cautioned Blake. "I opened one square to see what it was
he had hidden. You'll find he hadn't been too daffy to melt the
settings--keys or no keys. Say, but it's luck to learn they're yours!
Hope they're all there."

"All the good ones will be. He couldn't have sold or pawned any of the
best stones after we cabled. Gad! won't the pater be tickled! Ah!"

From the open square of which Blake had spoken, his lordship drew out
a resplendent ruby. "Centre stone of Lady Anne's brooch!"

He ran his immaculate finger-tips over the many squares in the cloth.