him to the jewels; the rest
is--how do you say--up to him. Are you satisfied with the way I keep
my word, monsieur?"

"It's hard to see how he can have any kick coming," Phinuit commented
with some acidity.

Lanyard addressed himself to Liane: "Do I understand the jewels are on
this vessel?"

"In this room."

Lanyard sat up and took intelligent notice of the room. Phinuit
chuckled, and consulted Monk in the tone of one reasonable man to his
peer.

"I say, skipper: don't you think we ought to be liberal with Monsieur
Lanyard? He's an awfully good sort--and look't all the services he has
done us."

Monk set the eyebrows to consider the proposition.

"I am emphatically of your mind, Phin," he pronounced at length,
oracular.

"It's plain to be seen he wants those jewels--means to have 'em. Do you
know any way we can keep them from him?"

Monk moved his head slowly from side to side: "None."

"Then you agree with me, it would save us all a heap of trouble to let
him have them without any more stalling?"

By way of answer Monk bent over and quietly opened a false door, made
to resemble the fronts of three drawers, in a pedestal of his desk.
Lanyard couldn't see the face of the built-in safe, but he could hear
the spinning of the combination manipulated by Monk's long and bony
fingers. And presently he saw Monk straighten up with a sizable steel
dispatch-box in his hands, place this upon the desk, and unlock it with
a key on his pocket ring.

"There," he announced with an easy gesture.

Lanyard rose and stood over the desk, investigating the contents of the
dispatch-box. The collection of magnificent stones seemed to tally
accurately with his mental memoranda of the descriptions furnished by
Eve de Montalais.

"This seems to be right," he said quietly, and closed the box. The
automatic lock snapped fast.

"Now what do you say, brother dear?"

"Your debt to me is fully discharged, Liane. But, messieurs, one
question: Knowing I am determined to restore these jewels to their
owner, why this open handedness?"

"Cards on the table," said Phinuit. "It's the only way to deal with the
likes of you."

"In other words," Monk interpreted: "you have under your hand proof of
our bona fides."

"And what is to prevent me from going ashore with these at once?"

"Nothing," said Phinuit.

"But this is too much!"

"Nothing," Phinuit elaborated, "but your own good sense."

"Ah!" said Lanyard--"ah!"--and looked f