Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 293, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 December 1919 — Diamond Cut Diamond [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Diamond Cut Diamond

By JANE BUNKER

CoxKyrtßbt by the Bobbs-Merrlll Couoia’ CHAPTER IV. The Wicked Flee. I confess I was frightened when I thought of the diamonds and only two women alone in the house —apparently—to guard them, but Mrs. Dels- 1 rio was terrified. “These stones” —she looked about the room despairingly. “Where can I hide them? And we two women alone in the house—” Again the ring—a long, long rattle; whoever it w’as meant to get in. Followed .a pounding on the door. Mrs. Delario, though deathly white, was now composed and ready to meet the emergency, whatever it was. Mechanically she slipped the elastic over the box and rose. “Til go to the door,” she decided. “It’s better to see who It is, anyway. Perhaps It’s only a district messenger. If it ten't—if it should be officers—they might break in the door.” And with that she whisked up her skirt and tucked the box down into her stocking. I had risen and was preparing to follow her out, feeling she" might need me, but she turned and said for me to wait behind the door out of sight and listen. She 1 est me. I heard the front dGor open just as the pounding began again. She asked, “What is it?” and a man’s voice answered, “Does Eugene Delario live here?” She said he did, and demanded what was wanted of him. The man’s voice said, “I must see him at once.” And then, to my amazement, I heard her tell the man, “I’m sorry, but you can’t —tonight; he’s sick in bed.” “I rather think I can see him, then," was the retort. “And I will.” There followed,. well, not quite a scuffle but a very active shuffling of feet, and the man pushed his way into the house in spite of her, pushing her aside from the door, which he shut with a bang and a “Now’, then.” Sensations began to trickle down my spine. “In which room is the young man sick?” demanded the voice. “I tell you you can’t see him —I refuse to let you go upstairs. What right have you forcing yourself into my house this way and demanding to see my sick son?" she asked angrily. “Now, lady, be reasonable and Hl show you,” he replied in a tone meant to conciliate. I heard a rattle of paper. “A warrant!” she gasped. “That’s what,” he said. “Want to see my badge?” There was a slight rustle as I assumed he showed It to her, for she gasped, “An officer —a warrant I” and seemed to sway on the stair. “Now, lady,” he began, still conciliating, “you don’t want fco make any more trouble for yourself than’s necessary. I got to do my duty —and it ain't always pleasant—but I got to do It. It ain’t my fault if I got to arrest your son —I ain’t doing it to spite you, nor him—he didn’t steal any diamonds off me, you Know—-” “Steal any diamonds!" she interrupted. “He never stole a diamond in his life. Never!” I fancied the man shrugging as he answered, “So much the better for him If he didn’t steal them —I’m sure I hope for your sake he didn’t, though it looks ba<L him trying to sell them to the very parties that knew all about them.” “Oh!” snd I could see her clinging to the banister. She was evidently at a loss what to do. Inpdftrstood In g. flash < happened —this man or an accomplice was the one who had followed her son home from the Maiden lane dealer’s yesterday. He evidently thought he making headway, for he went on. “Now see here, lady, you take It from me—the parties that are pressing this case don’t care for publicity, any more than you do —or your son does. It would ruin him if it got into the papers, to say nothing of his serving. time for it —” “Serving time! 'My God!” broke from her involuntarily. “Of course he’ll serve time if it’s proved on him,” her visitor assured her. She gave a sob. I was wrought up. It was all I could do to keep my place and not join her and help defy the man; but his next words held ntfe listening. “If he’ll give back the stones he showed yesterday, or tell where he’s hid them, I can get this settled out of court and nobody will be the wiser—if you don’t say anything. See?” “It isn’t true!” she cried. “My son never stole a cent’s worth of anything in his life.” “Here’s the warrant” “Arrest him if you will, but 'the law will prove him innocent —if there’s law in the land, and I sometimes doubt it" “But hadn’t you bettter talk to him first? It won’t hurt to hear what he has to say. and if it can be arranged

not tftlh to/lutnl l»»» you think 1 would ln«u*t my son by asking him if he stole diamonds?” r~— Followed a silence. Then the volet* “Veil. If vmt won’t 1 suppost you won't. Bur y. ::’ll regret it.' “I won’t.” “Then Til have to do it myself. Which room is be sick in?” d floor bacl. —but you can’t go up.’Vaua be planted herself across his wa v. 1 saw his hand roach out and remove hers from the banister and as he pusset) Iter site sank on the lowest step and began to sob. •I* may have counted six when Mrs, Delario whippecMnto. the seance room, my coat oiZher arm. "Quick —you must go,” she whispered. “You must hide my diamonds.” I gasped and asked. “How?” “While he's upstairs trying to get into a locked room.— She was dragging my coat on my arms and saying at pie same time, “It’s a fake—that man isn’t aneffieer;

I knew it was coming—l saw it clairvoyantly when Eugene came home. Hufry—hurry!” “But suppose—” I began. She cut me short. “You can! He doesn’t know you’re here —he didn’t see you. You can get away while he-’s breaking in the door and looking for Eugene. I’ll have time to telephone the police. Only .go—go Immediately—before he sees you." She whisked up her skirts as she spoke, pulled the box out of her stocking and thrust it in my hands. “I can’t.” I felt I simply couldn’t take the responsibility. “But they’re mine—l swear to God they’re mine,” she cried, evidently thinking the man’s words had convinced me that the stones were stolen. “They’re all I have in the world. If they’re found by these scoundrels they’ll be stolen from us. Don’t you see it? That man’s a thief.” From upstairs came the noise of pounding on doors and the words, “I know you’re here, so you may as well open the door.” I held the box, too paralyzed to know what to do, but Mrs. Delario had her wits about her if I didn’t. “Put it in your stocking andiron.” she commanded. “Quick— your stocking.” And I whisked up my skirt, even, as she had done, a ritT stowed the diamonds In my stocking. She pushed me out of the seance room ahead of her and we tiptoed to the vestibule. “Run,” she whispered. “I’m going to scream for help as soon as you’re out of sight.” In her hurry to get me off she almost pushed me down the steps. Then she snatched off her thin slipper, rnd the last glimpse I got df her as I turned the corner showed her ramming it into the crack of the front door to hold it open. , What she did/iext she told me later, but I may ,as Well put it in here. I was out of sight when the man blustered up to where she stood in the open ffeitvr, WWW and down the street for somebody to call., “You may as well tell that young man of yours,” growled he, “that if he don’t let me in I’ll break the door in.” “I don’t think you will,” she said calmly. “Now go.” “Not till I get what I eame for,” he said, taking hold of the door and trying to move it and finding it mysteriously wedged open. “Well, you’ll not do that this trip.” said she with spirit. “He isn’t there — and he wasn’t there. He was in the sitting room at the end of the hall” — she pointed to the seance room, the door of which he could see stood open—“and while you were trotting upstairs he ran out for a policeman. If you don’t believe it wait and see for yourself.” At that the fellow seized, her arm and tried to pull her back into the house and shut the door, but found it still wedged open, he could not see with what, as he was on the inside. But the moment be laid hands on her she began to scream, “Help! Help!” as loudly as ever she could. He didn’t wait to see what hap'pened—gs a matter of fact nothing happened, for there wasn’t a soul in sight on West End avenue when she screamed. ° . 7 , ' “Hl have a squad of police here myself to ‘help’ you if that’s what you’re after” be flung back as a parting, threat when he bolted down the steps

and disappeared around the same corner that had just hidden me. But that was the last she heard of him that night. She pulled her slipper out of the crack and shut the door. Then she went all to pieces and had a cry. •'j»♦ • * • ♦ As for me, when I left the house, I crossed the street, turned south and into the first cross-street T came to. It seemed as though everybody knew I had a million dollars in my stocking and was just waiting to nab me, or hand me over to the next policeman. But as nothing happened I became, a little more coherent, though I had the feeling I was being followed all the tlme. yet 1 couldn’t spot my shadow. My whole energy of mind was bent or giving my pursuer the slip. When at last I spied a subway station I jumped off the car, made a bolt of it for the stairs, rushed past the ticket chopper, throwing a nickel into his box, boarded a train that fortunately proved to be a north-bound express; got off at the next station and took a local; got out and took another express and got out for good when the guard bawled, “Huddn-n-forty-fift,” walked round the block where I live, and when there wasn’t a living soul in sight ducked into the front door of my apartment house. The elevator was rattling down from upstairs but I didn't wait for it. I tiptoed up the stairs, the descending elevator drowning the sound of my steps. I let myself in, put up the chain-bolt and took a long breath. Then my knees suddenly crumpled up under me and I went all to pieces in a heap. It was almost two o’clock before I found strength enough to undress, and I was so dazy I could hardly get my clothes off. While I was doing it I had brief thoughts of keeping on my stocking and taking the diamonds to bed with me; but I decided no—there’s a limit to one’s obligations in a case like this: if burglars come to 'you - ever noticed how very near a burglar feels when you have a million dollars in the house?—l’ll let them burgle. I’ll not help, but I’ll not hinder; life is too uncertain at its best So I set the box on the edge of the dining room table, conveniently, where burglars who were looking for just such a shabby little box filled with diamonds couldn’t fail to see it the instant they jimmied the front door off its hinges, or got in from the fire escape, or crawled up the kitchen dumb waiter, or came down the gas log into the fireplace. And then I went to bed —and slept, expecting to find that box exactly where I put it. (TO BE CONTINUED)

“I Knew It Was Coming—Hurry— Hurry!"