"Hello!" he said. "What's up?"

"Early, I bring you opportunity, the greatest of gifts. The favor I

shall confer, is it less than the favor I have received from you?"

"What do you mean?" asked Sebastian.

"Once you say that you will give much to get the young Percival in your

power."

"Yes. What of it?"

"It is done."

A look of real interest began to illuminate Mr. Early's face. "Well?" he

said sharply.

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"I have rubies--rubies to lure the heart of a woman from her bosom.

Madame, the young wife would give her soul--if she but had one. That is

too hard. Let her give her note." The Swami laughed gently. "You would

lend her five thousand dollars, my friend, to buy rubies from me. That

is an empty show. She gives you the note. I give her the necklace that

she must have. That is all. There is no need to give me money. I return

your hospitality thus."

"Well, suppose I did all this. Dick Percival could easily discharge his

wife's debt."

"Not so fast. Not so fast. The young wife is a fool as well as a knave.

To the note she shall sign her husband's name. That I will bring to

pass. But you know nothing of this. Of course not. You suppose that the

signature is genuine. You are unaware that Percival is out of town. And

I--if I am guilty--I am with my guilty knowledge in the hut in the

mountains of India. Do you not think that while you hold that note young

Percival will gladly serve you in any fashion that you may choose,

rather than that so foolish a piece of wife's knavery should come

abroad?"

"Gee whizz!" exclaimed Mr. Early, gazing at the simple seeker after

truth, whose face shone with a radiant smile. "Gee whizz! Ram Juna, but

you are a business man! But she won't sign her husband's name."

Ram Juna's smile expanded cheerfully.

"Let that remain to me. You have but to play your part," he said.

Mr. Early thought hard for a moment.

"There is need to haste," said the Swami gently. "She is now in the

garden where access is easy. Make the note. I will take it to her to

sign. Hasten, my friend."

Mr. Early drew toward him pen and ink.

"It's a little flyer, and there may be something in it," he said. "I

don't see that I get into trouble any way. But see here, Swami, you

deserve something for your work. I'm not going to see you lose that five

thousand. When you bring me this I O U with Dick Percival's signature,

I'll give you my check for the amount. Understand?"

"Be that as you will," said the Hindu, and he caught the piece of paper

and fled toward the thicket where Lena still played with her toy.