"Paste--bogus!" answered Schuyler scornfully.
"Yes. I took them round to a--jeweler, and had him test them."
"It is a very strange mistake, then, for a first-class house to make," rejoined Schuyler in a tone of sarcasm.
"So it is. They must have given me the wrong rings," said Mark innocently.
"My aunt is very much disappointed. She wanted to start this evening for Buffalo."
"She is going to visit her son in Buffalo," explained Schuyler with ready wit.
"I am really sorry. If she would go down to the jeweler's with me, or if you would, the matter could be set right at once."
Mr. Hamilton Schuyler thought over this suggestion, and on the whole regarded it favorably.
"I will go down in about an hour," he said. "You can explain matters to Mr. Swan. Just think if my aunt had taken the rings and paid full price for them, and not found out till she got to Buffalo that they were not genuine!"
"In that case Mr. Swan would have paid her the money or exchanged the rings."
"Perhaps you had better hand me back the caskets, and I will carry them back to the store."
Mr. Schuyler returned the boxes to Mark, who opened them to see if the rings were inside.
"You will go down in an hour then?" he said.
"Yes, or--upon second thought you had better come right back with the genuine rings. I have an appointment at the Windsor Hotel, but will be back to receive them."
Mark understood why Schuyler did not care to go to the jeweler's. He could not get possession of the genuine rings without paying for them, whereas, if Mark should bring them, he could carry out his original plan and retain them by stratagem.
Schuyler accompanied Mark to the front door.
"Now hurry down and back," he said. "My aunt is anxious to catch the evening train."
At this moment Schuyler noted for the first time a familiar look in Mark's face.
"Haven't I seen you before?" he asked abruptly.
"Very likely," said Mark with self-possession. "Perhaps you have been in the store."
"No; my aunt called there, but I did not. You look very much like some boy I saw recently," and Schuyler wrinkled up his forehead in the vain endeavor to place Mark.
"I hope I remind you of a good-looking boy," he said, laughing.
"I see it now. You look like a telegraph boy I recently met in a Fifth Avenue stage."