the passage. One of them was still soft. In an instant Beppo, a
skilful workman, made a small hole in the wet plaster, dropped in the
pearl, and with a few touches covered over the aperture once more. It
was an admirable hiding-place. No one could possibly find it. But Beppo
was condemned to a year's imprisonment, and in the meanwhile his six
busts were scattered over London. He could not tell which contained his
treasure. Only by breaking them could he see. Even shaking would tell
him nothing, for as the plaster was wet it was probable that the pearl
would adhere to it--as, in fact, it has done. Beppo did not despair, and
he conducted his search with considerable ingenuity and perseverance.
Through a cousin who works with Gelder, he found out the retail firms
who had bought the busts. He managed to find employment with Morse
Hudson, and in that way tracked down three of them. The pearl was not
there. Then, with the help of some Italian employee, he succeeded in
finding out where the other three busts had gone. The first was at
Harker's. There he was dogged by his confederate, who held Beppo
responsible for the loss of the pearl, and he stabbed him in the scuffle
which followed."

"If he was his confederate, why should he carry his photograph?" I
asked.

"As a means of tracing him, if he wished to inquire about him from any
third person. That was the obvious reason. Well, after the murder
I calculated that Beppo would probably hurry rather than delay his
movements. He would fear that the police would read his secret, and so
he hastened on before they should get ahead of him. Of course, I could
not say that he had not found the pearl in Harker's bust. I had not even
concluded for certain that it was the pearl, but it was evident to me
that he was looking for something, since he carried the bust past
the other houses in order to break it in the garden which had a lamp
overlooking it. Since Harker's bust was one in three, the chances were
exactly as I told you--two to one against the pearl being inside it.
There remained two busts, and it was obvious that he would go for the
London one first. I warned the inmates of the house, so as to avoid a
second tragedy, and we went down, with the happiest results. By that
time, of course, I knew for certain that it was the Borgia pearl that we
were after. The name of the murdered man linked the one event with the
other. There only remained a single bust--the Reading one--and the pe