The jeweller examined the trinket carefully, and seemed particularly interested in the unique tracery with which it was ornamented. For several minutes he did not speak; then he asked, abruptly, “Where did you get this?”
Breeze told him in a few words all that he knew of its history as well as his own.
“H’m,” said the jeweller. “You wait here a moment, while I show this to my partner.”
He was gone so long that Breeze began to grow uneasy, and had just about made up his mind to go in search of him, when he returned. He was accompanied by a low-browed, swarthy individual, who, when Breeze was pointed out, stepped up to him and said,
“This trinket, that you have brought in, is quite a novelty in our line, and I should like to buy it of you. It is a puzzle-charm of East Indian make. Unless one knows the secret of its construction, it cannot possibly be opened except by an accident that might not happen in ten thousand times of trying. I learned my trade in Calcutta, and am probably the only man in New York City to-day who can open this little ball. You see that I can do it.”
Here he showed Breeze the ball open, but did not let him see its contents. Then turning his back for an instant, he again displayed it closed as before.
“What will you take for it?” he asked.
“It’s not for sale,” answered Breeze, “but I am willing to pay for learning the trick of how to open it, for I am curious to know what it contains.”
“That information is not for sale either, nor will I tell you what the ball contains,” said the jeweller. “Moreover, if you will not sell it to me, or show me some proof that you are its rightful owner, I shall keep it until I can place it in the hands of the police, for it is my belief that you have stolen it.”