In the meantime Christopher, along with offering optimistic and repeated assertions that the diamonds would surely be found, was gleaning a surprising amount of information as he flitted about the store. He learned not only of clocks but interesting bits concerning the value and cutting of gems, the repairing of jewelry; the patterns of silverware, strange facts about pearls. Since he was free to browse wherever he chose, he found no monotony in his environment. Furthermore he gradually sifted out the men who had made something of their calling and attached himself to them because they invariably proved to be the most interesting. Those who merely sold what they had to sell and received the money he classed as bores and thereafter avoided. It was amazing how many more of the latter there were than the former. The man possessing a broad knowledge of the wares he handled was rare. Several clerks, for example, were behind the gem counters but the boy soon discovered that when they wished an expert opinion they with one accord turned to a stumpy little fellow with a bald head who appeared to know every stone in the showcase by heart and knew just what country it came from; whether it was well cut; if it was perfect or marred by flaws; whether it was a tinge off the desired color, and numerous other facts concerning it. Christopher had not dreamed there was so much to know about precious stones, let alone all the wealth of romance connected with them as Mr. Rhinehart had stored up. He could tell you where were the largest diamonds, rubies, and emeralds in the world; who owned them, and what they were worth; could give the history of many of the finest pearls and celebrated necklaces made from them; and at his tongue's end were stories regarding various gems as thrilling and delightful as any Arabian Night's tales. He it was who also had not only read about but had actually seen many of the crown jewels of the world and knew where celebrated collections of cameos, jade, and quaint Egyptian ornaments were exhibited. Indeed he seemed to have read and studied omnivorously and not a week passed that he did not add to his store of learning some interesting romance of a pair of old Sheffield candlesticks or a royal ruby. In fact Mr. Rhinehart was not just a man; he was a walking story-book, and, like McPhearson, a thoroughly delightful companion. Oh, he did not consider his job a humdrum one, it was easy to see that. He had lifted the traffic of jeweled ornaments, by means of which he earned his daily bread, out of the class of mere salesmanship. "You never get tired of your work, do you, Mr. Rhinehart?" commented Christopher, when on a day trade was light, he stood listening to the alluring adventure of a string of black pearls. "Tired of it? Why should I?" "But lots of the men do," was the naive observation. "They come in yawning in the morning, and seem bored to death at having to do the same old thing." Mr. Rhinehart smiled.