and disclosed a big, shabby, red velvet case. In the centre of it were some twisted initials surmounted by a crown. He snapped the case open, and the secretary drew in his breath sharply. Against the slightly dingy white of the interior, the stones glowed like blood.
"My God! sir," said Knighton. "Are they—are they real?"
Van Aldin laughed a quiet little cackle of amusement.
"I don't wonder at your asking that. Amongst these rubies are the three largest in the world. Catherine of Russia wore them, Knighton. That centre one there is known as Heart of Fire. It's perfect—not a flaw in it."
"But," the secretary murmured, "they must be worth a fortune."
"Four or five hundred thousand dollars," said Van Aldin nonchalantly, "and that is apart from the historical interest."
"And you carry them about—like that, loose in your pocket?"
Van Aldin laughed amusedly.
"I guess so. You see, they are my little present for Ruthie."
The secretary smiled discreetly.
"I can understand now Mrs. Kettering's anxiety over the telephone," he murmured.
But Van Aldin shook his head. The hard look returned to his face.
"You are wrong there," he said. "She doesn't know about these; they are my little surprise for her."
He shut the case, and began slowly to wrap it up again.
