“I thought of course the pearls were here,” she said, “or I should not have come.”

“Well, it isn’t going to hurt you,” her father snapped. “Mrs. Jordan, you say you’ve sent for the necklace?”

“Yes. It will leave Honolulu tonight, if all goes well. It should be here in six days.”

“No good,” said Madden. “My daughter’s starting tonight for Denver. I go south in the morning, and in a week I expect to join her in Colorado and we’ll travel east together. No good, you see.”

“I will agree to deliver the necklace anywhere you say,” suggested Eden.

“Yes — I guess you will.” Madden considered. He turned to Madame Jordan. “This is the identical string of pearls you were wearing at the old Palace Hotel in 1889?” he asked.

She looked it him in surprise. “The same string,” she answered.

“And even more beautiful than it was then, I’ll wager,” Eden smiled. “You know, Mr. Madden, there is an old superstition in the jewelry trade that pearls assume the personality of their wearer and become somber or bright, according to the mood of the one they adorn. If that is true, this string has grown more lively through the years.”

“Bunk,” said Madden rudely. “Oh, excuse me — I don’t mean that the lady isn’t charming. But I have no sympathy with the silly superstitions of your trade — or of any other trade. Well, I’m a busy man. I’ll take the string — at the price I named.”

Eden shook his head. “It’s worth at least three hundred thousand, as I told you.”

“Not to me. Two hundred and twenty — twenty now to bind it and the balance within thirty days after the delivery of the string. Take it or leave it.”

He rose and stared down at the jeweler. Eden was an adept at bargaining, but somehow all his cunning left him as he faced this Gibraltar of a man. He looked helplessly toward his old friend.

“It’s all right, Alec,” Madame Jordan said. “I accept.”

“Very good,” Eden sighed. “But you are getting a great bargain, Mr. Madden.”

“I always get a great bargain,” replied Madden. “Or I don’t buy.” He took out his check-book. “Twenty thousand now, as I agreed.”

For the first time the secretary spoke; his voice was thin and cold and disturbingly polite. “You say the pearls will arrive in six days?”

“Six days or thereabouts,” Madame Jordan answered.

“Ah, yes.” An ingratiating note crept in. “They are coming by —”

“By a private messenger,” said Eden sharply.