Mr. Early was waving a bit of paper about in a way quite hysterical.
“Do you see that?” he cried exultantly. “I never expected to see it again, but I declare it is worth its price. I was going over my bank accounts the first thing this morning and I found it.”
“How do you expect us to know what it is when you’re fanning it about that way?” Dick demanded.
“It’s a check, man, a check for five thousand that I gave Ram Juna the very day of his unceremonious departure.” Lena turned scarlet, and Mr. Early noticed it with fresh glee. “A check I gave Ram Juna,” he repeated. “It’s been cashed, with four indorsements, in New Orleans. Now how did he manage that, tell me. The Swami is one of the great geniuses of the age. Of course I wanted to see the rascals punished, and it makes me hot to think how they used my house and all that, but, by Jove! I’m glad they haven’t Ram Juna. From New Orleans, a seaport, mind you! I am willing to make a good-sized bet that he’s well on his way to his favorite Himalayas by this time, ready to meditate on the syllable ‘Om’ for the rest of his life. Oh, it’s too good! How he must laugh in his sleeve at the rest of the world! But how did he get that check cashed?”
“Well, if I were in your place, I should have it traced back,” said Dick, the practical.
“Of course I shall,” exclaimed Mr. Early. “Of course I shall. I shall put it in the hands of the police at once, for I’m sure of one thing, if it helps to root out any sinners, Swami Ram Juna won’t be among them. He’s gone for good, take my word for it; and as for the other rascals, I hope with all my heart they may suffer.” He nodded jubilantly at Mrs. Percival, and she flushed again.
“It’s a very good joke, certainly,” said Dick, “but rather an expensive one for you, I should say, Early.”
“Oh, I shall get five thousand dollars’ worth of satisfaction out of it,” Mr. Early went on enthusiastically. “And I’m proud of the Swami, proud of him. And the splendid simplicity of him! I was talking yesterday with the detective that ferreted him out. The plunder they found in my little room was perfectly primitive. He had practically no tools to make the cleverest counterfeits in years. A deft hand and a wonderful thumb had the Swami.”
“What are they going to do with the big ruby in his turban?” asked Lena.
“Oh, that is one of the chief things that I came to tell you about. You, my dear Mrs. Percival, have especial reason to be interested in this.” He turned, brimming with information, to Lena, “The captain of police took it to Brand’s—the jeweler, you know—to be appraised. Now isn’t this the crown of the whole story? Brand tells him that it is paste!”