as never
her steady. She married a cop."

"She wasn't worthy of you, Spike," said Jimmy, sympathetically. "A
girl capable of going to the bad like that would never have done for
you. You must pick some nice, sympathetic girl with a romantic
admiration for your line of business. Meanwhile, let me finish
shaving, or I shall be late for dinner. Great doings on to-night,
Spike."

Spike became animated.

"Sure, boss I Dat's just what--"

"If you could collect all the blue blood that will be under this
roof to-night, Spike, into one vat, you'd be able to start a
dyeing-works. Don't try, though. They mightn't like it. By the way, have
you seen anything more--of course, you have. What I mean is, have
you talked at all with that valet man, the one you think is a
detective?"

"Why, boss, dat's just--"

"I hope for his own sake he's a better performer than my old friend,
Galer. That man is getting on my nerves, Spike. He pursues me like a
smell-dog. I expect he's lurking out in the passage now. Did you see
him?"

"Did I! Boss! Why--"

Jimmy inspected Spike gravely.

"Spike," he said, "there's something on your mind. You're trying to
say something. What is it? Out with it."

Spike's excitement vented itself in a rush of words.

"Gee, boss! There's bin doin's to-night fer fair. Me coco's still
buzzin'. Sure t'ing! Why, say, when I was to Sir Tummas' dressin'-room
dis afternoon--"

"What!"

"Surest t'ing you know. Just before de storm come on, when it was
all as dark as could be. Well, I was--"

Jimmy interrupted.

"In Sir Thomas's dressing-room! What the--"

Spike looked somewhat embarrassed. He grinned apologetically, and
shuffled his feet.

"I've got dem, boss!" he said, with a smirk.

"Got them? Got what?"

"Dese."

Spike plunged a hand in a pocket, and drew forth in a glittering
mass Lady Julia Blunt's rope of diamonds.

CHAPTER XXII

TWO OF A TRADE DISAGREE

"One hundred t'ousand plunks," murmured Spike, gazing lovingly at
them. "I says to myself, de boss ain't got no time to be gittin'
after dem himself. He's too busy dese days wit' jollyin' along de
swells. So, it's up to me, I says, 'cos de boss'll be tickled to
deat', all right, all right, if we can git away wit' dem. So, I--"

Jimmy gave tongue with an energy that amazed his faithful follower.
The nightmare horror of the situation had affected him much as a
sudden blow in the parts about the waistcoat might have done. But,
now