"He put me on my honor," he complained. "Left me in charge of the shop. Can you beat it? Of course after that, I--well--you know, somehow I couldn't do it. I tried, but I couldn't." Mr. Stacy threw back his head, and his raucous laughter smote the lazy summer afternoon. "I can't help it," he gasped. "The funniest thing I ever--you--the best stone thief in America alone in charge of three million dollars' worth of the stuff!" "Good heavens, man," whispered Wall. "Not so loud!" And well might he protest, for Mr. Stacy's indiscreet and mirthful tone carried far. It carried, for example, to Mr. Richard Minot, standing hidden behind the curtains of his little room overhead. "Come inside, Martin," said Stacy. "Come inside and have a bracer. You sure must need it, after that." "I do," replied Mr. Wall, in heartfelt tones. He rose and followed Tom Stacy. Cheeks burning, eyes popping, Mr. Minot watched them disappear into the Manhattan Club. Here was news indeed. Lord Harrowby's boon companion the ablest jewel thief in America! Just what did that mean? Putting on coat and hat, he hurried to the hotel office and there wrote a cablegram: "Situation suspicious are you dead certain H. is on the level?" An hour later, in his London office, Mr. Jephson read this message carefully three times. CHAPTER VII CHAIN LIGHTNING'S COLLAR The Villa Jasmine, Mrs. Bruce's winter home, stood in a park of palms and shrubbery some two blocks from the Hotel de la Pax. Mr. Minot walked thither that evening in the resplendent company of Jack Paddock. "You'll enjoy Mrs. Bruce to-night," Paddock confided. "I've done her some rather good lines, if I do say it as shouldn't." "On what topics?" asked Minot, with a smile. "International marriage--jewels--by the way, I don't suppose you know that Miss Cynthia Meyrick is to appear for the first time wearing the famous Harrowby necklace?" "I didn't even know there was a necklace," Minot returned. "Ah, such ignorance. But then, you don't wander much in feminine society, do you? Mrs. Bruce told me about it this morning. Chain Lightning's Collar." "Chain Lightning's what?" "Ah, my boy--" Mr. Paddock lighted a cigarette. "You should go round more in royal circles. List, commoner, while I relate. It seems that the Earl of Raybrook is a giddy old sport with a gambling streak a yard wide. In his young days he loved the Lady Evelyn Hollowway. Lady Evelyn had a horse entered in a derby about that time--name, Chain Lightning. And the Earl of Raybrook wagered a diamond necklace against a kiss that Chain Lightning would lose." "Wasn't that giving big odds?" inquired Minot. "Not if you believe the stories of Lady Evelyn's beauty. Well, it happened before Tammany politicians began avenging Ireland on Derby Day. Chain Lightning won. And the earl came across with the necklace. Afterward he married Lady Evelyn--" "To get back the necklace?"