I would dream of Sholto at night.

A hundred times I have killed him in my sleep.

At last, however, some three or four years ago, we found ourselves in England.
I had no great difficulty in finding where Sholto lived, and I set to work to discover whether he had realized the treasure, or if he still had it.

I made friends with someone who could help me,--I name no names, for I don't want to get any one else in a hole,--and I soon found that he still had the jewels.

Then I tried to get at him in many ways; but he was pretty sly, and had always two prize-fighters, besides his sons and his khitmutgar, on guard over him.
"One day, however, I got word that he was dying.