"Whether it does or not, Mr. Rayne, I repeat it," I said defiantly. "I am not blind to your subtle machinations by which I have become your accomplice." He laughed triumphantly in my face. "You are paid--and well paid for it all. Why should you resent? Are you an idiot?" "I certainly refuse to be your tool!" I cried furiously. "You have thrown in your lot with me as one who ventures constantly in big things just as any man who operates on the Stock Exchange. It is good sport. You, George, are a sportsman, as I am. And from one sport we both derive a good deal of fun." "And the victim of our fun, as you term it, is to be old Mr. Lloyd!" I remarked, looking him straight in his face. But he only laughed, and said: "Don't be a fool. You are a most excellent fellow, Hargreave, except when you get these little fits of squeamishness." It was on the tip of my tongue to roundly refuse to have anything further to do with him and leave the house, but I knew, alas! that now I had stolen the famous ruby in Paris he would have no compunction in giving me over to the police. And if I, in turn, gave information against him, what could I really prove? Practically nothing! Rayne was always clever enough to preserve himself from any possibility of suspicion. It was that fact which marked him as the most amazing and ingenious crook. So I was forced to remain silent, and a few minutes later left the room. On the following Friday Mr. Lloyd left us. Rayne bade him a regretful farewell, after making him promise to return to us for a fortnight when he got back from Spain. "Probably my secretary, Hargreave, will have to go to Madrid upon business for me. I have some interest in a tramway company at Salamanca. So you may possibly meet." "I hope we do, Mr. Hargreave," said the old gentleman, turning to me warmly. "I shall certainly take your advice and try Madrid for a few weeks." "Yes, do. You'll like it, I'm sure," his host assured him, and then we drove away. "When are you going to Spain?" Mr. Lloyd asked me as he sat at my side on our way to Thirsk station. "I really don't know," was my evasive reply. "Mr. Rayne has not yet fixed the date." "Well, here's my address," he said, handing me a card with his name and "Reform Club" on it. "I wish you'd write me when your journey is fixed and perhaps we might travel together. I'd be most delighted to have you as my companion on the journey." I took the card, thanked him, and promised that I would let him know the date of my departure. CHAPTER X THE PAINTED ENVELOPE On my return I told Rayne of the old man's invitation, whereat he rubbed his hands in warm approval. "Excellent!" he cried. "You must travel with him and keep an eye upon him--just to see that nobody--well, that nobody molests the poor old fellow," he laughed grimly. I saw his meaning, but I was in no way anxious to become the traveling companion of a man who had, without doubt, been marked down as the next victim.