'By the way——' began the manager, and then his eye wandered to the specimen on the desk before Melville. 'Hello!' he cried, 'where did you get this?'
'That was left here a moment ago by a gentleman whom I wanted to wait until you came, but he seemed to be in a hurry. He is going to call again to-morrow.'
'What is his name?'
'Wentworth. Here's his card.'
'Ah, of a firm of accountants, eh? How did he come to have this?'
'He wanted to get some information about it, and I told him I would show it to you. Here is the note he left.'
The manager turned the crystal over and over in his hand, put on his eyeglasses and peered into it, then picked up the piece of paper and looked at what Kenyon had written.
'Did he say where he had got this?'
'Yes; he says there is a mine of it in America.'
'In America, eh? Did he say how much of this stuff there was?