"The plaguy pearls must have fairly turned his head, Max," he declared,
with almost savage earnestness.

"Just what I was beginning to believe," the other admitted, with a shake
of his head.

"But what can we do about it, Max?"

"I'm going to watch," replied the other.

"To-night, you mean?"

"Yes. The fever is still in Steve's veins. He doesn't seem to act like
himself. And, Owen, d'ye know, I've read somewhere that some people are
strangely affected by certain kinds of gems. They seem bewitched when
looking at or handling the same."

"That's it, Max. Pearls must have some sort of terrible fascination for
poor Steve."

"He admitted as much himself, and you all heard him say so," declared Max.

"All right. Count me in," Owen went on.

"What d'ye mean by saying that, cousin?" asked Max.

"Only that you won't have to watch alone, Max."

"Just as you say, my boy. Glad to have your company. But we'd better be
making preparations to keep our eyes on that bag," Max went on.