“It was the famous necklace of purest pearls that had been lost for the past sixty years. It was worth about two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, at the time it disappeared. To-day it would be worth much more. But it belonged to the French Museum, and a reward of two hundred thousand francs had been offered for trace of it, or its return. So long ago had that reward been recorded in every civilized land, that the present generation had never heard of it—except in history.
“Well, I took a receipt from Tiffany for its safe-keeping, and they assured me that they would communicate with the French Ambassador, without delay. Meanwhile I was to communicate with my friend Avery. Naturally I withheld all information as to the manner in which the necklace had been discovered.
“I went to Avery’s office, immediately, and acted very sorry as I said: ‘Avery, if I were to tell you that I lost that necklace, what would you do to me?’
“He only laughed and said: ‘I’d make you buy my wife one as good, or one she might prefer to that greasy one!’
“Then I said: ‘Avery, I never had, nor do I expect to have as much money as that necklace is worth! Man alive, it is now in Tiffany’s safe, insured for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, against fire or theft!’
“I thought Avery would faint, but when he had managed to collect his wits, he whispered hoarsely, ‘I don’t understand—were they genuine pearls?’
“So I told him the story and we both rushed away to hire a taxi and then we drove madly to Tiffany’s, again. I introduced Avery as the owner of the pearls, and he was treated to a sight of his little twelve-dollar bargain.
“Well, the upshot of it was, Avery received a ‘present’ of a hundred thousand dollars from the French Government, and in return he signed a release for himself, his wife, his heirs, friends, acquaintances, and, in fact, every American citizen in the census. He was told that he would be held responsible, thereafter, for all claims or lawsuits instituted against France to recover the necklace. And he accepted the burden, considering he had such a price paid for the job.
“One day Izaacs got a present through the mail, of a draft for a thousand dollars and to this day he doesn’t know who the signer ‘William Avery,’ can be.
“My old jeweler on Union Square got another thousand, and I—well, I refused everything, and Avery called me a numb-skull and an easy mark! So he invested half of all he received in my wife and Nancy’s name, and that is how they went to Europe.” Mr. Fabian smiled reminiscently at the end of the story.