brute is a type," he
told himself. "I must work him in somewhere. I wonder, though, if I had
not better leave him and go up to the baccarat. It might be more
remunerative. It would be amusing," and Alphabet smiled at the fantasy
of his own thought, "it would be amusing indeed if he tried to prevent
me." He put his hand over his eyes and let Mr. Fairbanks ramble on.

"You see," he heard him say, in connection with something that had gone
before, "a man in my business has to be careful. Now, there are rubies
and rubies. I only handle the Oriental stones, which are a variety of
the hyaline corindus. They are found in Ceylon, in Thibet, and in Burmah
among the crumblings of primordial rock. But I have seen beauties that
were picked from waste lands in China from which the granite had
presumably disappeared. They are the most brilliant and largest of all.
There is another kind, which looks like a burned topaz: it is found in
Brazil and Massachusetts. Then there is the Bohemian ruby, which is
nothing but quartz reddened by the action of manganese; and there are
also imitations so well made that only an expert can tell them from the
real. I keep a few of the latter on hand so as to be able to gauge a
customer. Well, gentlemen, the Russian picked up two of them, which I
placed before him, and put them to one side. He knew the false article
at a glance. Your friend, Jones, that simpleton Nicholas Manhattan,
would have taken one of the imitation if I had not prevented him, but
this fellow was so clever about it that he won my immediate respect."

"Jones, indeed!" Alphabet muttered. "Why, the brute is as familiar as a
haberdasher's advertisement!" He looked at him again: his face was like
a brandied peach that had fallen into the fire, and his head was set on
his shoulders like an obus on a cannon. "Bah!" he continued, "what is
the use in being irritated at a beggar who is as ugly as a high hat at
the seashore?"--"When you do me the honor to address me, sir," he said,
aloud, "I shall be obliged if you will call me _Mr._ Jones."

"Tut, tut!" the little man answered, and then, without further attention
to Alphabet, he continued his tiresome tale:

"When the Russian had examined the rubies very carefully a second time,
he said, half to me and half to himself, 'I think they will do.' Then,
looking up at me, he added, 'Mr. Fairbanks, you do not make a
hundred-thousand-dollar sale every day, do you?' 'No, your Excellency,'
I answered