"It would have been a slower job there. You were wise in your choice.
Shall we go down to the drawing-room, now?"

"Ye say y'are rich yerself," said McEachern.

"Very," said Jimmy, "so don't you worry yourself, my Wall Street
speculator."

Mr. McEachern did not worry himself. He had just recollected that in a
very short time he would have a trained detective on the premises. Any
looking after that James Willoughby Pitt might require might safely be
left in the hands of this expert.




CHAPTER IX.


It was at dinner that Jimmy had his first chance of seeing the rope of
pearls which had so stimulated the roving fancy of Spike Mullins. Lady
Blunt sat almost opposite to him. Her dress was of unrelieved black,
and formed a wonderfully effective foil to the gems. It was not a rope
of pearls. It was a collar. Her neck was covered with them. There was
something Oriental and barbaric in the overwhelming display of
jewelry. And this suggestion of the East was emphasized by the
wearer's regal carriage. Lady Blunt knew when she looked well. She did
not hold herself like one apologizing for venturing to exist.

Jimmy stared hungrily across the table. The room was empty to him but