the young woman's name—not that I claim she is young, you understand—on a slip of paper, seal it in an envelope, and you may put the envelope in your office safe. If Frederick marries within six months, open the envelope. If I have named the girl, the Skagpole Venus is mine at $20,000. If I have failed to name her correctly, or Frederick doesn't marry within six months, 'The Dance of the Hamadryades' is yours at the same figure. That's more than fair, Bel'; you have two chances to my one; he may not marry, or, if he does, I may not call the name of the bride."
Belford yanked nervously at his white moustache, vexed to find he was not to hear the young woman's name at once. "Dammit, what does the old file know?" he thought. "That's a queer wager, but, at least, if Frederick doesn't marry in six months I'll know who Derrington is hinting at." "Aloud, he said, "Well, all right, Derrington. I'll take you up there."
Paper and envelope being secured from the stationery department, John Thomas, a letter sheet laid atop of the jewelry counter behind which Miss Anita Maloney still waited to serve his wishes, was about to write when Belford heard something that made him listen acutely.
"Young lady, what is your name?" asked John Thomas in guarded tones of Miss Maloney as he poised his pen.
Belford, having his back toward John T. was not aware of it, but Derrington, as he put his question to the salesgirl, covertly observed the department store owner through one corner of a very wise eye, carefully estimating the distance between that man and himself. Perhaps he imagined Belford might suddenly leap forward and wrest that bit of paper from his hands the instant the name was imposed thereon; then, again—but the pretty salesgirl was answering.
"Anita May Maloney," she replied sweetly.
John Thomas wrote down something, folded the paper painstakingly, slipped it inside the envelope, dated and memorandumed it and handed the sealed sheet to Belford, who accepted it with an obviously puzzled air and an unmistakably shaky hand. For the first time since she had been employed in his store, he looked at Miss Anita Maloney and was profoundly impressed with her compelling beauty.
"Good God!" he thought. "Can it be possible there is anything between my Frederick and this person? I'll have to look into matters with the boy, right away."
"Tuck that in your safe, Bel'," chuckled Derrington. "And, remember: not to be opened unless Frederick marries within six months."
As Belford walked away, so bewildered by this odd and unexpected turn of events that he could with difficulty realize whether he was walking on his hands or his feet, John Thomas gave his attention to Miss Anita Maloney and the emerald necklace. The salesgirl, formerly a mere shadow merging into the general landscape of John Thomas's life, had now become a personality.
"I think you may have that necklace wrapped up." he said, "and I will take it with me. Here is my card. I believe my family has an account here. And, let me add, if the good wish
