ys did like all black. I can't imagine what ails Try, if it
isn't that."

Tryon Dunham took his way to his office much perturbed in mind.
Perplexities seemed to be thickening about him. With the dawn of the
morning had come that sterner common-sense which told him he was a fool
for having taken up with a strange young woman on the street, who was so
evidently flying from justice. He had deceived not only his intimate
friends by palming her off as a fit companion for them, but his mother and
sister. He had practically stolen their garments, and had squandered more
than fifty dollars of his own money. And what had he to show for all this?
The memory of a sweet face, the lingering beauty of the name "Mary" when
she bade him good-by, and a diamond ring. The cool morning light presented
the view that the ring was probably valueless, and that he was a fool.

Ah, the ring! A sudden warm thrill shot through him, and his hand searched
his vest pocket, where he had hastily put the jewel before leaving his
room. That was something tangible. He could at least know what it was
worth, and so make sure once for all whether he had been deceived. No,
that would not be fair either, for her father might have made her think it
was valuable, or he might even have been taken in himself, if he were not
a judge of jewels.

Dunham examined it as he walked down the street, too perplexed with his
own tumultuous thoughts to remember his usual trolley. He slipped the ring
on his finger and let it catch the morning sunlight, now shining broad and
clear in spite of the hovering rain-clouds in the distance. And gloriously
did the sun illumine the diamond, burrowing into the great depths of its
clear white heart, and causing it to break into a million fires of glory,
flashing and glancing until it fairly dazzled him. The stone seemed to be
of unusual beauty and purity, but he would step into the diamond shop as
he passed and make sure. He had a friend there who could tell him all
about it. His step quickened, and he covered the distance in a short
time.

After the morning greeting, he handed over his ring.

"This belongs to a friend of mine," he said, trying to look unconcerned.
"I should like to know if the stone is genuine, and about what it is
worth."

His friend took the ring and retired behind a curious little instrument
for the eye, presently emerging with a respectful look upon his face.

"Your friend is fortunate to have such a beautiful