Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 320, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 January 1920 — Diamond Cut Diamond [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Diamond Cut Diamond

By JANE EUNKER

Conyritfit tar the Bobbe-Mexrill Comumm •You knev*T was accused? And that 1 denied avervthtngF I -I thought it happened that way—l wasn’t »nre ” _ “Were you accused, tool" “Yes.” “Of the same thing?” . . “I presume so.” ' \ “You denied everything?" “Absolutely." ; “Now I really must know this—did you bring those articles in yourself F •*Yes.” “You said a friend did.” . “Well—l didn’t feel I could explain at the time. There were circumstances connected with it—" " e “At the time we crossed together—this last trip?” “Yes. Can’t you see how things have been forked? If I’d followed my intuitions, I shouldn’t have allowed—” “The girl to come with youF “Yes. It was planned.” - < “Wait! There’s another thing I want to know." ; “I’ll tell you later.” J , “No —now. How did they get through the- —■” ~ ? z < “I can’t tell you.” \ x f “But I must know—it’s a matter of great importance to me.” “One of those slippers we bought in Paris is lost" < ' “No it isn’t—l have it Please answer my question—howF “Good-by.” That was all. I couldn’t get another word. She’d rung off. Just as I was trying to get her back, I saw Mr. Detective Man slip into the drug store. He saw me in the booth. Then ho quickly slipped away again. I hung up and stepped out ; but I looked back as I opened the street door Mr. Detective Man was just sliding into the booth to find out what number Fd called! ■ - I went quietly home feeling I had gained forward one step at least—Mrs. Delario had admitted her smuggling—which I didn’t consider any of my affair—and she had confirmed my suspicions that De Ravenol was trying to rob her. “All right, let’s see hlm'do it I" thought I; but how —if she hadn’t told him —and she said she hadn’t—and of Course she wouldn’t—how under the heavens did he know, or even suspect that I had her diamonds? I had on my rubbers—for these reasons my trip through the haH to the elevator was noiseless; The elevator car was up, and as I heard it coming down I did not ring I was standing with my back to the shaft,/ facing the door of the rear flat—l stood at most three feet away from that door. Without the slightest sound of footsteps from the hall of the flat, tmt door opened—a man% face looked out —looked at me—and the door noiselessly closed. * It happened in a flash, so silently, that badtoybaeK been turned, had I been watching the descent of the car, I should have been none the wiser. The man who opened the door was Monsieur De Ravenol. I could not possibly be mistaken. The main hall light shone fpll on his face. He was hatless. And what was more—he recognized me and knew * had recognized him! I was stupefied! The man was evidently living in the same house with met _ S ..X< The rattling elevator recalled me to my senses as George, smiling and talkative, opened the door for me to get in. much did George know? The car did up. “Who is the gentleman living to the rear flatF'l.asked with as much unconcern aS I could. “The French gentleman—foreigner—l don’t know If he’s French or what What is his nemeT* “His name?" George considered this past another floor, and I repeated the ■ don’t know bls name—he ain’t been here tong. “When did he take the flatF “Well, udw I don’ know jes* which day towns, but ft was before you come home—maybe two days, maybe a week, an* he ain’t really moved iln.yet—only a bed ari* some (hairs. He say he got furniture cornin’ from the other side an’ he don’ want go buy no more here he speak to you about I boldly as the car stopped at my floor. Georgs a IWI anti * , - Thar*, tn in the . « • mvvtfvit uzliinh innw ba n rirod !

” newline. “Thegentleman is very rich, George. I hope he •He done thatl He gimifte ten doh “He’s good tor another ten, George, If you work him right,” I affirmed. “Oh, you needn’t be so shy ! He asked you a lot of questions about mu and you don’t want me to know It You told him everything you knew—” “Well, that’s right,” George broke in aheenlshlv. “He did ask me some on®snons, out nonest co * *—- tell himanything Dad—l tell him 1 don’t reely .know much about you. -That’s what I tell him, honest to goodness.” “He really psld you for telling him every time I went out or came in, didn’t he?” But George was suspicious and On guard at once. Ho threw open the car door without answering. ’ „ / “Oh; all right," said I carelessly, but not stepping out as I saw he 'wished me to? “You needn’t give it away, but I know, all the same, so it doesn’t mat- ' iek_yhether you tell me or not.” “What you suppose he so perticuler to know ferF asked George, ingenuously feeling he was guarding his secret while gratifying his curiosity. “How should I know? Maybe he wants to hang flowers on my door. He’s very rich, I understands George grinned, interested and sym-’ pathetic. He scented romance and it explained all to him as adequately as ft bad to Mrs. Jlmmson. I unlocked my door as quickly as I could—l didn’t mean to ’let George think I attached any Importance to monsieur. I knew enough. The man was a fellow tenant in the same house, in the flat directly under mine, and George was his paid spy. Aa-I shut the door, I asked myself, “What XV I had a fleeting idea of keeping Jlmmson with me for the. night; but I couldn’t think of any explanation'for so unusual a request. I could not take her into my confidence—if she stayed, I could hardly keep her out of it. She was anxious to go home—! saw that and I didn’t blame her; and I was anxious to be alone and think, and I felt only relief as I saw the last of her faded skimpy weeds, her faded skimpy form, and I said good-by to her heartily, little realizing that she was the one human being who stood be-1 tween me, and monsieur’s machinations, and that when she closed herself out, she closed me In—a prisoner. H CHAPTER X. Prisoner. “Alone at last!" That was my first feeling as I sank Intomy easy chair to collect my thoughts—alone with a million dollars’ worth of diamonds—alone

on 'the sixth floor with monsieur occupying lawfully the flat directly under mine! And what was Ito dot Obviously, the,,first thing was to hide them, and since they'd been safe once In the hyacinths I wasn’t going to tempt fate by changing the place. So I put my fresh bunch in water, poked the diamonds among the stems and threw the old bunch away. bSVe” of *tiie same fire nothing of the haU stairs—he could come and co in the house as fee Pft PR 7 T 'iC/ !- Tlig dumb-waiter I counted out beand maMe 1* impossmie xo* anyone to open me aoor - Wt nf in 1

he would have to break them off theft hinges to get at me that way. The bathroom window didn’t give me much concern. The sash was stuck monsieur would advertise himself to the neighborhood by breaking it. But I drove a couple 0« nails above the sash just for lucx and then gave my attention to the kitchen window. Since he’d gone out that way, he'd very likely try It to comeback The glass was thin —he could 'cut it out easily; he could evdn smash it and come through so quickly that nobody would see him. But all right, monsieur, thought I, rm going to give you your money’s worth —Fil make you stand on the fire escape long enough for the neighbors to get a good look at you. • I had a couple of rolls of picture wire and I tacked this across the sash, —not across the frame, because I didn’t want to find myself wired in While he was wired out The wfte made a considerable, network, almost Impossible to get through without a pair of wire nippers, and I doubted veryz-fanch if he'd be carrying such things in his pocket; and when I had nailed down the sash, as I have said, in the bathroom I felt secure in my retreat There waa now no way fbr a man to In while I was in—unless, that Is, he came down from the roof on a rope to one of tlje other windows. J thought of that and got ready to knock him off with a bgoom or throw pepper in his eyes if he tried that trick on me. at last 1 felt I was sate —so long as I stayed in, of course! • All the time Td been working, my mifld had pounded out dully the,question, “What Nad I better do next?" and the only answer seemed to be I must get help from some one —I had passed the pqint where I could play a lone hand In the game and save the diamonds.- I had tried to telephone several times without getting an answer, which at the moment didn’t as? tonlsh toe? It provoked me, though, that I could jiot order something from the grocer and the butcher for my dinner. I go out to dinner, but tonight,, even had I been so minded, I dared not leave the flat. ■ v ' .Outride the drizzle had settled to a steady downpour. It was dark and gloomy and my feelings were the same as. I opened some canned stuff and got as much of a meal as I could with what was in the house. I think ft was tbc skimpiness of the larder at the timd that showed me. as much as anything else how important ft was for me now to get help—l had food enough to last lor a couple of days, and aft er that—if things kept on this way—how was Ito get it? . Billy Rivers was, df, course, my logical resource. He had seen the flat the night before—he could start all the protective machinery Id the city for me. With this resolution, I weqt to the telephone. It was “dead”—my connection was severed! I didn’t need to be told that monsieur had cut my wires! , t ' t The fuR magnitude of my Calamity buret upon me ftad I sat down on the nearest chair with a flop. The bittef fact of the whole situation struck me like a blow bn the head —rd let every chance for protection or flight go by me; the One remaining chance was a letter entrusted to my spy. Well, Td try that, vnyway. r _. I spent an hour in composing a missive to Billy that would tell him a great deal and monsieur nothing—if ft fell into his hands—and this is what came out ot. it: / , “Dear BUftr: Em ready to sell you that story I promised. It Is now nearly finished, but I shall need some help from you in arranging the climax Don’t waste time telephoning—the telephone is out of order—but attend to ft personally.' This is an ambulance caU.” - z 1 \ It all hinged on the words “ambulance call” and » Billy would read them “hurry up,” and then, taking tßem In connection with what he’d seen of the flat robbery, read, “My life Is in danger.” ; ; > - And would monsieur see it If the letter fell Into his Mid*? Tfeat was my risk—and there yoa are! I made three coptes. t directed one to Billy at his office—l inclosed one In a letter to Philadelphia to my brother asking him to mail it there—l dropped the thlifl. Carelessly, into the manuscript of a short story, sent to a magazine, hoping the editor would think ft &u HCCIUdIt aUu Kaumy urau air *v* It was half past ten and I wasfkgged out. My last chance had come. “Would George mail 4he letters?” I got a quarter out for him—l was afraid to give him more and make him think the letters were important and not the sort of thing be mailed for me almost every night, 1 •. ''; , ■ r M , I togged one weary foot after the other along the hall —I hated to let the 1 letters out of my hands now that Y .had them ready. “WeU, he’s got to do it!” said I firmly,and took hold at the door-knob and the Yale latch. I turned and pulled; turned the Limy was in the lock! I was hard and] % a prisoner in my own flat ! - The immediate effect oaf me of tslS S'. aVm -BSABum wont AMO .Swain and rww wcut fire tonight Til be burned like a rat In AAU WAX® . **ia V ..A*., w waair

brother had requested me te—l was free to put the diamonds In my stocking and step out into —the-Great Unknown! Only—l wasn’t' such a fool as to do it! I could and nowever, give George my letters to malt One thing was npw clear M mPr-aft long as I stayed in th* flat I was comparatively safe —I must make my main play that Billy had got my letter or that somebody would call. Though of cqnrse George would say'-I was out*he was paid for that by monsieur. manner of living—afraid to go out and being unable to communicate even with the grocer—two days wore away; to b* exact, from, Tuesday night to Friday morning. And they were enlivened by some Interesting experiences. On the second night I was awakened by the pound of a latchkey working at my front door. I tiptoed Into the ball and listened. I can’t say I was frightened. The chalnboit was on and the only way it could be got off was by first shutting the door tight—which meant it cojild not be worked back with a wire. I had seen toy that when the locksmith put it in. Nothing came of this attempt to t flt a key to my new lock, and I got comfort, out of the thought that it proved monsieur regarded the fire escape as much too public for his performances. I had given George my’ letters, to mail on Wednesday mornlhg, but as Thursday wore away aAd Billy didn’t come I saw what I'was In so was to be sjtarved Into leaving the'flat. I whs already weak for want of food: I suppose my belief In Imminent starvation had something to do with it but as a matter of fact I had had nothing that could be called a square meal since Monday night at the restaurant and I hadn’t eaten much then-4-I was too excited over mv encounter with monsieur. Oh, how r Wished I’d eaten that egg Mrs. Jlmmson boiled for me—rit might have saved my life! Yes, I was weak with hunger, and by Sunday nfgbr there would not be a mouthful in the house to eat It was now Thursday evening That night monsieur picked the new Yale lock on the front door',. How long he’d been working at it before I woke up I can’t pay, and I might never have known it at all if he hadn’t accidentally dropped his bunch of kdys on the tiled floor. Their tinkliiig awoke me. _> knew on the instant what it war and lay perfectly still while I felt him listening for a sound from me to shoF that I was ’awake. I should say I lay there fifteen minifies before he went on with his job. , J V : A J

Softly I crept out of bed. I tiptoed through the hall apd placed myself back of the door where he could not see me should he get it open. . We stood thus possibly sere minutes, hie work lighted by the ball gas jet, I in total darkness, while keys slid Into -the lock, Mid out and clicked agatast the buneh he had in his hand. It was a large bunch, judging from the sound. The sixth key did it The Yale lock turned once—twice. He withdrew the key and I heard him taking it off the ring and dropping the bunch into his pocket He put the key once more in the lock and tried again to make spre. It was not till then that he unlocked the lower lock —the one he kept me prisoner with. He’d never ohce given me the chance to pop out on hlnvttH he was ready to pop In on me I, And now he was ready. The key turned—the door handle turned. A' strip of light showed over his. head and slowly widened. The chain-bolt slld end slld, almost noiselessly, along its socket. Then it stopped. t think he hadn’t noticed it at firstlie had turned the gas low and as he stood he cut < the light When the door suddenly stopped he moved aside to see what was hampering him. I saw the glitter of the brass chain. He saw it too. Then darkness again, and I felt rather-than saw his fingers come through the crack and feel the chain. Next came the whole hand and worked at the chain—but the farther

way. but he didn’t yet know tt! He bared his arm and thrust it through the crack and felt slot to the bole in the end. wg my chance to give him <*e withthe

I WM too paratyred* with excitement. I had my chance and let it go. I did nothing—said nothing—scarcely breathed the whole time he was there. And to this day I donit know if Icouid ham bettered toe situation by doing anything bat what I did— very little time on the chain, ft took him not more than two r mlnutes to learn that he couldn’t S* the bolt out at the end of th* ot without first shutting the door—which meant It couldn’t be got out except from tin inside. He withdrew his hand. There was a dead pause in which he seemed to be considering, what to do next Then he closed toe door and locked me in I did not» hear him leaw —only, when toe door closed on him all was silent He probably crept up and down the stairs In gum shoes. And with my teeth chattering I asked myself my now favorite question, "What next?* I was to have It answered in a wa/ I didn't _ .-J— Ai _ 4 -J ' * expect. CHAPTER XI. One of tip Slippers. ' I went back to bed. and thus ends Thursday night. Friday morning found me pretty desperate. I felt I must now get help or literally die—of starvation, if nothing worse; for if I "Went out, now that monsieur had a key , to my flat, he could slip in and lock me but and stay till he found the diamonds. And if I took them out with me—well, that was something I simply couldn’t think of. Nothing had come of the letters I had given George to mail—he has always stuck to it that he put them In the box immediately; well, he put them in the box —but not until Saturday, as I happen toknow by the postmarks on two of them. But let that &°- On Friday morning the one person I could positively trust to mail a letter for me popped Into my head—the postman. : I rang for George and it was a solemn face I showed in exchange for his ivory mitte . "George, I seem to have lost a check in the mail,” said I soberly. "I want you to bring the postman up on his next trip so I can see about It.” , "t don’t know Nothin’ about It,” he exclaimed excitedly. “If it* come J. brung it up—that’s a sure thing.” "Nobody says you took It,” I reminded him. “But I must see toe postman on his next teip.” A- • ' “Well, I ain’t take no letter and no check," George still protested. But I held my peace—George had done something about my letters he was afraid I’d find out And I did—by the next delivery. He brought up one with, my brother’s business address on the outside, the postmark in New York three dayb oldl - v ’ . He hurried down to catch the man on his next trip, and through the top of the disappearing car sung out to me, “I ain’t take no letter and no check!" I rushed to my study, and thia la the letter I dashed off to Billy: v Dear Billy: That affair is now Me and death. Come at once—but tell nobody till you've seen ma Bring two,good revotvera. Don't bother with the tatogbone-my wire* are cut and I'm * prisoner being starved to death in my own flat . Billy—this to die biggest story-and K>manee—you ever struck. When you get to the house the elevator boy will tell you £ svrar&vJ ooupto So this till ycWvetriadeveTy Other poeribldWuy of reaching me. Try Jt by ths where you are and that tt re u to the hmue with the police. Butkeep Bomethlnff to out or >f®iy inina tat four rolls and three sardines. Only ..i:. 4 . > t. j

I addressed this to Billy at his o* dee, found a ten-cent piece for special delivery. and hadn’t more than just got it ready when George spryiy hronaht UD the noahhnnI was obliged to spin some sort of a plausible yarn to save appearances, and when I handed him my letter with the dime and begged him to mail It for me I knew I was saved. But 1 havenever yet attempted to count up the Ues those diamonds cost me! It was no# a little after ten and there was nothing for me to do but wait and shiver. I began to think co- . herently—to appreciate what monsieux himself would be getting into by calling the police or the customs authorities to help’him steal Mrs. Delario’a diamonds. i 7 -And yet I saw perfectly he could do itl rWhere he had her was that she’d smuggled the stones. He knew it—l knew it—Claire knew it. And,, if he were bold enough to steal them from her In just that way I wasn’t sure but she was timid enough to let him do it I suddenly remembered what George had told mp about his renting the flat “Why, the man was here before we were!” l exclaimed. “He took a faster steamer—he was all ready to cany through the job when we landed!” And with that I suddenly remembered aXXOIXIV* KO।Ofc Tn<t i UaU dltirvJajr BHa/fkTvl my mind: while our belpg examined—or rather pot examined—and Quire way peeping and erery* body was flying round and asking evayyhoAy'tP he’d seen her mother—an tow- Atocp. beady -ayeo A man on 2utchaZ~had stood..'' opposite '

The next moment my. eye fed on a tnrquoise-beaaeu siipper^- iictb _ mine, I didn’t know which—thathad fallea down between our suiteases. The old genfleman had his eye on it also. I saw hl« hand Some out of his Mg pocket and reach, cautiously, slowly. My own hand shot out and grabbed the slipper from under his nose, and I gave him « double-barreled glare. I hadn’t finished the glare whta my cousin came hurrying to tell me to be quick, our baggage was through. I had, as I say, forgotten the whole Incident, but—THE MAN IN Dlfe GUISE WAB MONSIEUR DE BAY® NPI-

What Was Ito Do?

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