He sat down beside the dazed Harrowby on one of the lobby sofas. "I'm all at sea, really, old chap," Harrowby confessed. "But I must say--I admire you tremendously. How the devil did you know the necklace was a fraud?" "I didn't know--I guessed," said Minot. "And the thing that led me to make that happy guess was Tom Stacy's refusal to loan you money on it to-night. Mr. Stacy is no fool." "And you think that Martin Wall has the real Chain Lightning's Collar?" "It looks that way to me. There's only one thing against my theory. He didn't clear out when he had the chance. But he may be staying on to avert suspicion. We haven't any evidence to arrest him on--and if we did there'd be the customs people to deal with. If I were you I'd hire a private detective to watch Wall, and try to get the real necklace back without enlisting the arm of the law." "Really," said Harrowby, "things are happening so swiftly I'm at a loss to follow them. I am, old boy. First one obstacle and then another. You've been splendid, Minot, splendid. I want to thank you for all you have done. I thought to-night the wedding had gone glimmering. And I'm fond of Miss Meyrick. Tremendously." "Don't thank me," Minot replied. "I'm not doing it for you--we both know that. I'm protecting Jephson's money. In a few days, wedding-bells. And then me back to New York, shouting never again on the Cupid act. If I'm ever roped into another job like this--" "It has been a trying position for you," Harrowby said sympathetically. "And you've done nobly. I'm sure your troubles are all out of the way now. With the necklace worry gone--" He paused. For across the lobby toward them walked Henry Trimmer, and his walk was that of a man who is going somewhere. "Ah--Mister Harrowby," he boomed, "and Mr. Minot I've been looking for you both. It will interest you to know that I had a wireless message from Lord Harrowby this noon." "A wireless?" cried Minot. "Yes." Trimmer laughed. "Not such a fool as you think him, Lord Harrowby isn't. Managed to send me a wireless from Tarragona despite the attentions of your friends. So I went out there this afternoon and brought George back with me." Silently Minot and Harrowby stared at each other. "Yes," Mr. Trimmer went on, "George is back again--back under the direction of little me, a publicity man with no grass under the feet. I've come to give you gentlemen your choice. You either see Lord Harrowby to-morrow morning at ten o'clock and recognize his claims, or I'll have you both thrown into jail for kidnaping." "To-morrow morning at ten," Harrowby repeated gloomily. "That's what I said," replied Mr. Trimmer blithely. "How about it, little brother?" "Minot--what would you advise?" "See him," sighed Minot. "Very well." Harrowby's tone was resigned. "I presume I'd better."