In the small town across the line I planted the stones and cash carefully in the plant I had prepared, but put the watches in another place where they could tick themselves out in security. At seven o’clock in the morning the faithful old horse was back in the corral, well fed and rubbed down, and I was in my room at Irish Annie’s. In the afternoon she came in with the small town “Extra” paper. I saw that this burglary, one of the simplest and easiest of my life, was by far the most profitable. Diamonds valued at twenty thousand dollars, wholesale price, fifty watches, five hundred dollars cash, and a parcel of gold wedding rings roughly outlined the loss. I immediately “pooh-poohed” the business to her, telling her I knew enough about burglary to see that it was an inside job and that it was done by the storekeeper to beat his creditors. She believed me and no suspicion whatever found lodgment in her mind. The next day’s paper questioned the burglary. It was hard to believe that any sane man could be guilty of such carelessness as the jeweler frankly admitted. He also admitted that the stock was taken on consignment, that the stones were not paid for, and that if they were not recovered he would be broke and bankrupted. The town was divided as to whether he had robbed himself, and the marshal and his deputies remained dormant. I paid another week’s board for the old horse, and another week’s rent for the room opposite the jeweler’s. I had no use for them any more, but thought it safest not to give either of them up too soon and chance arousing suspicion. After a restless month I said good-bye to Annie and to the “Canadian side.” Leaving the watches and rings where they were, I dug up the plant of stones and cash, and went into Spokane, where I threw away my good clothes, put on overalls, a mackinaw coat, a lumberjack’s cap, and bought a cheap ticket to Seattle. There I changed again, buying an expensive outfit of clothes and other things necessary for the traveler. Three days later I was in San Francisco, safe, secure, and unsuspected. My first act was to put the stones in a safety box, tear up the receipt, and plant the key in a safe, convenient place. Then began the toughest part of the business, getting the stones off my hands and into cash. Day after day I sorted out the larger ones and in my room “unharnessed” them from their settings. Other articles, clusters and sunbursts, were left intact in their settings—to remove them would depreciate the value. I had many of the best stones reset and sold them for fair prices openly to bookmakers, prize fighters, jockeys, gamblers, and women about town. My money went into the bank, and for the first time in my life I carried a check book.