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"This is a very valuable ring," he said.
"So I thought," said Paul. "How much is it worth?"
"Do you mean how much should we ask for it?"
"No; how much would you give for it?"
"Probably two hundred and fifty dollars." Paul was quite startled on finding the ring so much more valuable than he had supposed. He had thought it might possibly be worth a hundred dollars; but he had not imagined any rings were worth as much as the sum named.
"Will you buy it of me?" he asked.
The clerk regarded Paul attentively, and, as he thought, a little suspiciously.
"Does the ring belong to you?" he asked.
"No, to my mother."
"Where did she buy it?"
"She didn't buy it at all. She found it one day at Central Park. It belongs to her now. She advertised for an owner, and examined the papers to see if it was advertised as lost, but could hear nothing of the one to whom it belonged."
"How long ago was this?"
"Two years ago."
"I will show this ring to Mr. Tiffany," said the clerk.
"Very well."
Paul took a seat and waited.
Soon Mr. Tiffany came up.
"Are you the boy who brought in the ring?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"You say your mother found it two years ago in Central Park?"
"Yes, sir."
"It is a valuable ring. I should be willing to buy it for two hundred and fifty dollars, if I were quite certain that you had a right to dispose of it."
"I have told you the truth, Mr. Tiffany," said Paul, a little nettled at having his word doubted.
"That may be, but there is still a possibility that the original owner may turn up."
"Won't you buy it, then?" asked Paul, disappointed, for, if he were unable to dispose of the ring, he would have to look elsewhere for the means of buying out Barry's street stand.
"I don't say that; but I should want a guaranty of indemnity against loss, in case the person who lost it should present a claim."
"In that case," said Paul, "I would give you back the money you paid me."
Mr. Tiffany smiled.
"But suppose the money were all spent," he suggested. "I suppose you are intending to use the money?"
"I am going to start in business with it," said Paul, "and I hope to add to it."
"Every one thinks so who goes into business; but some get disappointed.
You see, my young friend, that I should incur a risk. Remember, I don't know you. I judge from your appearance that you are honest; but appearances are sometimes deceitful."
"Then I suppose you won't buy it?" said Paul, who saw the force of this remark.
"If you can bring here any responsible gentleman who knows you, and is willing to guarantee me against loss in the event of the owner's being found I will buy the ring for two hundred and fifty dollars."
Paul brightened up. He thought at once of Mr. Preston, and, from the friendly interest which that gentleman appeared to take in him, he judged that he would not refuse him this service.
"I think I can do that," he said. "Do you know Mr. Andrew Preston? He is a wealthy gentleman, who lives on Madison avenue, between Thirty-fourth and Thirty-fifth streets."
"Not personally. I know him by reputation."
"Will he be satisfactory?"
"Entirely so."
"He knows me well," said Paul. "I think he will be willing to stand security for me. I will come back in a day or two."
Paul took the ring, and left the store. He determined to call that evening on Mr. Preston, and ask the favor indicated.
CHAPTER XVII
MR. FELIX MONTGOMERY
Paul had an errand farther uptown, and, on leaving Tiffany's walked up as far as Twenty-third street. Feeling rather tired, he got on board a University place car to return. They had accomplished, perhaps, half the distance, when, to his surprise, George Barry entered the car.
"How do you happen to be here, at this time, Barry?" he asked. "I thought you were attending to business."
"I closed up for a couple of hours, having an errand at home. Where have you been?"
"To Tiffany's."
"What, the jewelers?"
"Yes."