"You clever boy," she cried. "We are all so very grateful to you. You have saved us from a very embarrassing situation."
"Please don't mention it," Minot replied, and he meant it.
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—"