lector in Chicago. My coins seem to be of the early Swiss states."
"Early Swiss coins are almost as rare as Swiss ships in the present day, sir." Findlay took the round bits of silver with the collector's intense absorption, which made him forget that he had not even asked his visitor's name. "And these are exceptionally rare and interesting pieces. I have never seen but one other of these which I am fortunate enough to possess. They are all the same, I see," he sifted them swiftly one after the other into his palm. "But—what's this—what's this?" he cried with sudden disappointment as he took the top ones up separately for more individual examination. "I hope you have not paid too great a price for these." He went to one of his cases and, opening it, took out an exact duplicate of Trant's coin. "For see!" he weighed the two accurately in his fingers; "this first one of yours compares most favorably with this specimen of mine, which is unquestionably genuine. But this—this—this and this; ah, yes; and this, too"—he sorted over the others swiftly and picked out five—"are certainly lighter and I'm afraid they are counterfeit. But where are my scales?"
"Lighter?" Trant repeated, in apparent bewilderment.
"The correct coin, you see," the collector replied, tossing his own silver pieces into his scales, "should be over 400 grains—almost an ounce. But these," he placed the ten pieces one after the other on the balance, too absorbed to notice the ringing of the door bell, "the five I feared for, are quite light—twenty
