Paul drew it from his pocket, and passed it over to Barry.
“It's a handsome one, but who would think such a little thing could be worth two hundred and fifty dollars?”
“I'd rather have the money than the ring.”
“So would I.”
On the right of Paul sat a man of about forty, well-dressed and respectable in appearance, with a heavy gold chain ostentatiously depending from his watch pocket, and with the air of a substantial citizen. He listened to the conversation between Barry and Paul with evident interest, and when Barry had returned the ring, he said:
“Young gentleman, would you be kind enough to let me look at your ring? I am myself in business as a jeweler in Syracuse, and so feel an interest in examining it.”
“Certainly, sir,” said Paul, the stranger's explanation of his motives inspiring him with perfect confidence.
The jeweler from Syracuse took the ring in his hands and appeared to examine it carefully.
“This is a handsome ring,” he said, “and one of great value. How much were you offered for it at Tiffany's?”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars.”