"Got them? Got what?"
"Dese."
He plunged his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a glittering mass.
Jimmy's jaw dropped as he gazed at Lady Blunt's rope of pearls.
"Two hundred t'ousand plunks," murmured Spike, gazing lovingly at them. "I says to myself, Mr. Chames ain't got no time to be getting' after dem himself. He's too busy dese days wit' jollyin' along the swells. So it's up to me, I says, 'cos Mr. Chames'll be tickled to deat', all right, all right, if we can git away wit' dem. So I——"
Jimmy gave tongue with an energy which amazed his faithful follower.
"Spike! You lunatic! Didn't I tell you there was nothing doing when you wanted to take those things the other day?"
"Sure, Mr. Chames. But dose was little dinky t'ings. Dese poils is boids, for fair."
"Good heavens, Spike, you must be mad. Can't you see—Oh, Lord! Directly the loss of those pearls is discovered, we shall have those detectives after us in a minute. Didn't you know they had been watching us?"
An involuntary chuckle escaped Spike.
"'Scuse me, Mr. Chames, but dat's funny about dem sleut's. Listen.
Dey's bin an' arrest each other."