"What a necklace!" thought Jimmy.

"Keggs told me dat. De old gazebo what hands out de long woids. I
could find out where dey're kept dead easy.'

"What a king of necklaces!" thought Jimmy.

"Shall I, Mr. Chames?"

"Shall you what?" asked Jimmy, coming out of his thoughts with a
start.

"Why, find out where de loidy keeps de jools."

"Confound you, Spike! How often am I to tell you that I have done with
all that sort of thing forever? I never want to see or touch another
stone that doesn't belong to me. I don't want to hear about them. They
don't interest me."

"Sorry, Mr. Chames. But dey must cop de limit for fair, dose jools.
Two hundred t'ousand plunks! What's dat dis side?"

"Forty thousand pounds," said Jimmy shortly. "Now, drop it."

"Yes, Mr. Chames. Can I help youse wit' de duds?"

"No, thanks. Spike; I'm through, now. You might just give me a brush
down, though, if you don't mind. Not that. That's a hair brush. Try
the big black one."