ted by its historic worth.
I am sure you will be glad to buy it."

"For how much?" asked Uncle John, curiously.

"A trifle; a mere hundred thousand lira."

"Twenty thousand dollars!"

"The ring of King Roger. How cheap! But, nevertheless, you shall have it
for that sum."

Uncle John smiled.

"My dear Duke," he replied, "you have made a sad mistake. I am a
comparatively poor man. My fortune is very modest."

The brigand lay back in his chair and lighted a fresh cigarette.

"I fear you undervalue yourself, my dear guest," he said. "Recently have
I returned from America, where I was told much of the wealth of Signor
John Merreek, who is many times a millionaire. See," drawing a paper
from his pocket, "here is a list of the stocks and securities you own.
Also of government and railway bonds, of real estate and of manufactures
controlled by your money. I will read, and you will correct me if an
error occurs."

Uncle John listened and was amazed. The schedule was complete, and its
total was many millions. It was a better list of holdings than Uncle
John possessed himself.

"You foreigners make queer mistakes, Duke," said he, taking another
tack. "This property belongs to another John Merrick. It is a common
name, and that is doubtless why you mistook me for the rich John
Merrick."

"I have noticed," returned the Duke, coldly, "that this strange delusion
of mind is apt to overtake my guests. But do not be alarmed; it will
pass away presently, and then you will realize that you are yourself.
Remember that I crossed the Atlantic on your steamship, signore. Many
people there on board spoke of you and pointed you out to me as the
great man of finance. Your own niece that is called Patsy, she also told
me much about you, and of your kindness to her and the other young
signorini. Before I left New York a banker of much dignity informed me
you would sail on the ship 'Princess Irene.' If a mistake has been made,
signore, it is yours, and not mine. Is your memory clearer now?"

Uncle John laughed frankly. The rascal was too clever for him to dispute
with.

"Whoever I am," said he, "I will not buy your ring."

"I am pained," replied the brigand, lightly. "But there is ample time
for you to reflect upon the matter. Do not decide hastily, I implore
you. I may have been too liberal in making my offer, and time may assist
me in fixing a just price for the relic. But we have had enough of
business just now. It is time for