est
that I possess, through the father in me, will be powerless to prevent my
indulgence in this crime. Keep me in sight, and if I show the slightest
inclination to give you the slip, knock me over the head, will you, for my
own good?"

I promised faithfully that I would do as he asked, but, as an easier way out
of an unpleasant situation, I drugged his Remsen cooler with a sleeping-
powder, and an hour later he was lying off on my divan lost to the world for
eight hours at least. As a further precaution I put the jewels in my own
safe.

The night's sleep had the desired effect, and with the returning day
Holmes's better nature asserted itself. Raffles was subdued, and he returned
to Gaffany's to put the finishing touches to his work.

"Here's your check, Jenkins," said Raffles Holmes, handing me a draft for
$5000. "The gems were found to-day in the water-cooler in the work-room, and
Gaffany & Co. paid up like gentlemen."

"And the thief?" I asked.

"Under arrest," said Raffles Holmes. "We caught him fishing for them."

"And your past jewels, where are they?"

"I wish I knew," he answered, his face clouding over. "In the excitement of
the moment of the arrest I got 'em mixed with the originals I had last
night, and they didn't give me time or opportunity to pick 'em out. The four
were mounted immediately and sent under guard to the purchaser. Gaffany &
Co. didn't want to keep them a minute longer than was necessary. But the
purchaser is so rich he will never have to sell 'em--so, you see, Jenkins,
we're as safe as a church."

"Your friend Robinstein was a character, Holmes," said I.

"Yes," sighed Holmes. "Poor chap--he was a great loss to his friends. He
taught me the art of making paste gems when I was in Paris. I miss him like
the dickens."

"Miss him!" said I, getting anxious for Robinstein. "What happened? He
isn't--"

"Dead," said Holmes. "Two years ago--dear old chap."

"Oh, come now, Holmes," I said. "What new game is this you are rigging on
me? I met him only five nights ago--and you know it."

"Oh--that one," said Raffles Holmes, with a laugh. "_I_ was that
Robinstein."

"You?" I cried.

"Yes, me," said Holmes. "You don't suppose I'd let a third party into our
secret, do you?"

And then he gave me one of those sweet, wistful smiles that made the wonder
of the man all the greater.

"I wish to the dickens I knew whether these were real or paste!" he
muttered, taking the extra pendants