“Where are the peanuts, which we got for the seventy-five cents, which we got for the diamond ring, which we found on the street! Now, Miss Scricket, you’ve got to go to jail,” said Archie, cheerfully. “Where is the jail, which holds Miss Scricket, which ate the peanuts, which cost seventy-five cents, which she got for a diamond ring, what belonged to somebody else! Regular House that Jack Built.”
“You can pay for the peanuts you ate, then,” retorted Cricket. “That will be pretty nearly seventy-five cents.”
“That identical seventy-five cents it will not be necessary to return,” said Doctor Ward, pinching her cheek. “I’ll supply the money, and report at luncheon.”
At luncheon Doctor Ward held up the ring.
“I went, I saw, I got the ring, after an hour’s hard work. I suspected it was really a diamond as soon as the old Jew opened his lips.”
“It is a diamond?” cried every one, in chorus.
“I won’t keep you in suspicion, as Cricket used to say. It is a diamond, though not of the first water. The old fellow first pretended he knew nothing about the matter. I had the clerks called up. He only had two. One of them—”
“Did he have a big nose?” interrupted Cricket, eagerly.
“And greasy hair and black finger-nails?” added Hilda.
“All those,” said Doctor Ward. “Well, it took an hour, but finally I got it back. Then I took it to Spencer’s—”