"What are you screaming about so early in the morning?" Grace Winslow emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes. She stared speechlessly at Byron Sinclair, who was shrieking in the yard.
Byron Sinclair was so excited he could barely speak. He just jumped up and down on the spot. After a moment, he pointed to a pile of stones stacked like a rockery in a corner of the yard. "What is this? Tell me, what is this?"
Grace Winslow glanced over, thought for a moment, and said, "The previous owner left them when I bought the house. I was going to throw them out, but my mom said they looked nice and would make a good addition to the garden, so we kept them."
"What's wrong? Is there a problem with these stones?"
"They *are* pretty nice. They look great stacked here as a rockery."
Byron Sinclair stared at Grace Winslow as if he'd seen a ghost. "You don't know what these are?"
"Raw gemstones! These are all raw gemstones!"
