"But Emerson gave these to me and you work for him, don't you?"
"Sure I do. Boy, things aren't what they used to be—even in the jewelry racket. Come on, come across. I could pot you and nobody would know—" He smiled broadly, "only you are too dawgone nice."
"Thanks for the compliment." The revolver suddenly slid against his ribs. "O.K.," Ken grinned. "You can have 'em."
"I don' git 'em, boss," said the negro as he took the bracelet and ring, "and neither do you. They're for Ernie. To be used next year. Now get out."
Ken obeyed. "Don' forget to tell the police," said the man. "They'd love to hear how you got 'em! And start walking—and don't look back."
Ken did not look back until the limousine was out of sight. He arrived home at eight in the morning. That night he danced so well that Nor ah remarked that he must have spent a restful week-end.
"You've guessed it right, Norrie," he laughed. "I went down to the sea."
"I'm glad," she said. "You needed the salt sea air."
"Which," Ken commented, "was about all I did get."
