lan the robbery, but was merely Billie
Budd's tool. So I think you might as well forgive him, too, Your
Lordship, and thus get all the states' evidence they can turn for us.
Thorneycroft," he added, turning to the secretary, "you accused Luigi
Vermicelli, the Earl's valet, of having stolen the cuff-buttons, and
you there, Olaf, accused your stable-partner, Carol Linescu, of the
theft. I shall give your statements due consideration, and lay for the
accused parties accordingly. Now, Watson, we'll get busy and see if we
can't recover some more of the cuff-buttons before luncheon. It's only
a little after nine now," looking at his watch, "and we have nearly
three hours left. And, by the way, I believe I made a bet of five
pounds with Billie Budd yesterday morning that I would find some of
the cuff-buttons that same day. He won the bet, since I didn't find
the heirlooms until to-day, but inasmuch as the aforesaid Budd is a
fugitive from justice, I'll just confiscate the stakes and call myself
the winner! Doc, hand over those ten pounds you've been keeping
there."

I did so at once, glad to be relieved of the responsibility, and old
Hemlock Holmes was about twenty-five dollars ahead by Budd's
disappearance, although still nine diamond cuff-buttons behind!

"You may go back to the stables now, Olaf," said the Earl to the
coachman; who beat it immediately, glad to get out of any further
arraignment. "And you, Eustace, can get busy again with these darned
bills we were auditing when Holmes came in with his news."

He took up the two glittering baubles, put them in his pocket, and
drew up his chair again to the table, while Eustace resumed his former
seat.

"Oh, say! I nearly forgot. We must celebrate a little on this!" the
Earl suddenly cried, as he pounded his fist on the table.

"Harrigan," he called out, "bring up a bottle of my very best
Burgundy, and set 'em up to Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson, in honor of
the glad return of my ancestor's historic cuff-buttons!"

The jovial butler seemed always to be within earshot whenever the Earl
wanted him, and in a moment entered the library and ventured:

"The best Burgundy you have is the 1874 Beaune, Your Lordship. Shall I
bring that?"

"Sure! P. D. Q.! I'm feeling a little dry again, anyhow," said the
Earl, as he winked at us, while the still somewhat embarrassed
Thorneycroft looked out of the window at the birds singing their
spring songs among the trees.

Harrigan left