oney and bonds he rather expected, but the
customs appraiser's receipt was like a buffet. The emeralds belonged
honorably to his guest! All his own plans were knocked galley-west by
this discovery.

An odd sense of indignation blazed up in him, as though someone had
imposed upon him. The sport was gone, the fun of the thing; it became
merely official business. To appropriate a pair of smuggled emeralds was
a first-class sporting proposition, with a humorous twist. As it stood
now, he would be picking Hawksley's pocket; and he wasn't rogue enough
for that. Hang the luck!

Emeralds, rubies, sapphires, pearls, and diamonds! No doubt many of them
with histories--in a bag hung to his neck--and all these thousands of
miles! Not since the advent of the Gaekwar of Baroda into San Francisco,
in 1910, had so many fine stones passed through that port of entry.

But why hadn't Hawksley inquired about them? Stoic indifference? A good
loser? How had he got through the customs without a lot of publicity?
The Russian consul of the old regime probably; and an appraiser who was
a good sport. To have come safely to his destination, and then to have
lost out! The magnificent careless generosity of putting the wallet
behind Kitty's flatirons, to be hers if he didn't pull through! Why,
this fiddling derelict was a man! Stood up and fought Karlov with his
bare fists; wasn't ashamed to weep over his mother's photograph;
and fiddled like Heifetz. All right. This Johnny Two-Hawks, as Kitty
persisted in calling him, was going to reach his Montana ranch. His
friend Cutty would take it upon himself to see to that.

It struck him that after all he would have to play the game as he had
planned it. Those gems falling into the hands of the Federal agents
would surely bring to light Hawksley's identity; and Hawksley should
have his chance.

Cutty then came upon the will. Somehow the pathos of it went deep into
his heart. The poor devil!--a will that hadn't been witnessed, the
handwriting the same as that on the passport. If he had fallen into
the hands of the police they would have justifiably locked him up as
a murder suspect. Two-Hawks! It was a small world. He returned the
contents to the wallet, leaving out the will, however. This he thrust
into a drawer.

"Coffee?" said Kitty at his elbow.

"Kitty? I'd forgotten you! I thought I smelt coffee. Just what I wanted,
too, only I hadn't brains enough left to think of it. Smells better than
anyth