personal matter I had come into possession of the gems. Learning that they were his, I wished to restore them. The Baron asked no questions."

Ivan shook his fine head. "Either you are a madman, Mr. Clamart," says he, "or else you are something much more rare; an honest one."

"I am neither," I answered. "I am merely a man of my word."

Ivan shot me a curious look. "You are apt very soon to be a dead man," said he.

"That," said I, "brings me to the main point. Do you, my dear Count, wish that I were a dead man? Because if you do, I feel that I might just as well save you the trouble and blow my brains out. This would also save my nervous system a lot of wear and tear."

Ivan twisted the waxed tip of his moustache. He glanced at me once or twice, then slowly shook his head.

"No," said he, slowly. "Personally I wish you no ill. I like and admire you, Mr. Clamart. As you remarked yesterday, a man may be a criminal and yet have a certain code of ethics. I, myself, am not what Society would call a purely bad man. I steal from the rich, and sometimes, indirectly, as in the case of a bank, from the poor. Many respect able financiers do as much. But I give liberally to certain charities. It might surprise you to know that I am the sole supporter of an institution for tuberculous children. A child of my own once died of tuberculosis and my own early boyhood was menaced by the same disease."

"Your charity does not surprise me in the least,"