The young fellow interrupted me impulsively.
"By George, Swift! it's yours. Find it and keep it—or sell it and keep the money. I 'll not have the ghastly thing—chuck it into the lake first."
"That's no proper way to dispose of it; and later on you might regret such a gift to me. This was what I was going to suggest.
"I believe the claim of the Burmese to be just, for I suppose they 're honest according to their lights. They would have a pretty hard time establishing it, though, if you are of a mind to contest the matter."
"Great Scott! Forget that cursed ruby; talk about something else. I want to get the thing out of my mind and never think of it again."
"All right. I sha'n't mention it after to-day. But let me get through. Here 's an easy way to settle the matter.
"Let the Burmese have it after reimbursing the estate for what your uncle paid for it; it would be only fair—at least, in a measure.
"I want to hold Tshen and his entourage of mild-eyed cutthroats until I put Burke through; they 're my best witnesses. We can't hang the rascal, but we have an excellent ease against him for burglary, attempted swindling, and attempted blackmail. After I find the ruby you can do the bargaining."
He agreed to this. After a bit he favored me with a quizzical regard.
"I don't mind explaining that ring episode—now," he said, in response to my look of inquiry. "When you first pointed out the true import of the wax impression on the candlestick, it brought to my mind at once Fluette's capricious notion of wearing a ring on the middle finger of his right hand. I was keeping tab on you the day of the inquest. I knew that he was going to attend, and that the circumstance would be of considerable significance to you. I saw your look dart to his right hand—-saw you watching him—"