s. Cocoanut palms and birds of
paradise! And drums in the night going tumpi-tum-tump! tumpi-tum-tump!

"I've always been mad over green things," began Cutty. "A wheat field in
the spring, leafing maples. It's Nature's choice and mine. My passion is
emeralds; and I haven't any because those I want are beyond reach.
They are owned by the great houses of Europe and Asia, and lie in royal
caskets; or did. If I could go into a mine and find an emerald as big
as my fist I should be only partly happy if it chanced to be of fine
colour. In a little while I should lose interest in it. It wouldn't be
alive, if you can get what I mean. Just as a man would rather have a
homely woman to talk to than a beautiful window dummy to admire. A
stone to interest me must have a story--a story of murder and loot, of
beautiful women, palaces.

"Br-r-r!" cried Burlingame.

"Why, I've seen emeralds I would steal with half a chance. I couldn't
help it. Fact," declared Cutty, earnestly. "Think of the loot in the
Romanoff palaces! What's become of all those magnificent stones? In a
little while they'll be turning up in Amsterdam to be cut--some of them.
Or maybe Mister Bolsheviki's inamorata will be stringing them round her
neck. Loot."

"But the drums of jeopardy!" said Kitty.

"Emeralds, green as an English lawn in May after a shower, Kitty. By the
way, do you mind if I call you Kitty? I used to."

"And I've always thought of you as Cutty. Fifty-fifty."

"It's a bargain. Well, the drums to my thinking are the finest two
examples of the green beryl in the world. Polished, of course, as
emeralds always should be. I should say that they were about the size of
those peppermint chocolate drops there."

"Have one?" said Kitty.

"No. Spoil the taste of the pipe."

"You ought to spoil that taste once in a while," was Burlingame's
observation. "But go on."

"I suppose originally there was a single stone, later cut into halves,
because they are perfect matches. The drums proper are exquisitely
carved ivory statuettes, of Hindu or Mohammedan drummers, squatting,
the golden base of the drums between the knees, and the drumheads the
emeralds. Lord, how they got to me! I wanted to run off with them. The
history of murder and loot they could tell! Some Delhi mogul owned them
first. Then Nadir Shah carried them off to Persia, along with the famous
peacock throne. I saw them in a palace on the Caspian in 1912. Russia
was very strong in Persia at one