Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 February 1920 — Diamond Cut Diamond [ARTICLE]

Diamond Cut Diamond

By JANE BUNKER

CmvriAt tar tba Bobbs-MarriU Coaonaaar

-ne couia.~ “Say—that’s what he Is I And ‘mossoo’ got wind of him last night and sedoted for the tai’ timbers I The emperor wouldn’t lust hand ‘mossoo' a box of diamonds like that and tell him just to take ’em and present ’em with his compliments—they don’t do things that way over here. He’d send a second man to see that the first man did his job according to contract. And why Isn’t this the man?” It did look possible—though I couldn’t still see why he had begun his acquaintance with me—telling me a lie about Claire. While I was wondering over It, Billy remarked, “Poor De RaVenol has got his troubles all right. He knows the old man’s' after him and he’s lost the goods. Say, you can afford.to pity him now.” X wave of utter despair swept over me. I know of nothing more unhinging than the facetious nonchalance of the young male In face of a serious situation. I was ready to weep. I was saved from it by the ringing of the front bellr I put up the chain-bolt before I opened it—l had sense enough for that—and then I cried: "You 1” and received a sharp, “Ssh I Let me in, quick.” It was Mrs. Delario. When I saw her, you could have knocked me down with a feather. I let her in and whisked her into my bedroom and shut the door on us. My first thought was Billy—he had naturally looked down the hall when I went to the door — and I knew' he’d guess immediately who it was; but though I had told her the part he had already played in our adventure she hadn’t' met him and I had the presence of mind not to spring him on her till I'd found out* what she came for. She had caught sight of him and now spoke in a whisper. "You can’t guess what’s happened 1” "What next!” I gasped, almost in a whisper. “Monsieur has simply dumped Claire back on my hands and decamped-— /Without a word of real explanation I” __ /“Oh, never!” ■ .7_..7.. "It’s what he’s done I And I’m in the worst pickle! What does It all mean? He came last evening and told me he’d just seen you and you told him I had me ‘ ammvuua — "What K a Ue!” I burst out involuntarily. ' “And then this morning—before Pm Out of bed —this comes by a messenger.” She had drawn out a letter from her bac: she took it out of the envelope and handed It to me, remaning at the same time, “There was fifty dollars in it.” The letter read: “Dear' Madame belario: "I was unable to return according to promise because of telegraphic communication notifying me that my wife —Claire’s mother —is probably ill with a fatal Illness and I am leaving for California immediately. My child knows nothing of her mother’s Illness and the reason of my so sudden departure. I am concealing It from her by saying that It is diplomatic business which calls me away. It would be cruelty to subject her so sensitive nature to anxiety and shock of long journey when she could not hope to see her mother alive. “I Implore you in human kindness take pity on. her once more’and shelter her for a few days, keeping from her the knowledge of this calamity that threatens her. I shall communicate with you in a few days. My gratitude,’’ etc. “And Claire followed it In an hour!" Mrs. Delario whispered. “Did he bring her?” "No—he sent her in a carriage. Of course he didn’t bring her! He didn’t take any chances of my refusing to keep her for him.” "Poor bhild!” I exclaimed. "She was devoted to her mother —it will be: a terrible blow to her.” Mrs. Delario sniffed at me—taking the letter from my hand and glancing at it before she answered: “You don’t think for a minute there’s anything the matter with Claire’s mother, do yottF "There Isn’tF — - •• “Why, of course not! V , OK'I know,” she answered the question she must have read in my face. “I psychometrized this note as soon as/I got it. That man can’t decrive me—l feel ‘scheme’ and “plot* all over it." She held it a moment in a testing sort of way, running her fingers back and forth over it, then placed It in .my hand, asking: "Can’t you fed the occult infiuencesF and looked as If she Expected me to reply that I could feel theoccultlnfluences, plain as anything. Which I couldn’t She seemed disappointed and put the letter into its envelope and that into her handbag, rmnarking: "It’s part of a schema he’s working. I haven’t made out the reri of lt—l’m not ddar bn It yet though I know it’s something—tricky.” 1 “And you think Ile didn’t go to Oalifornlat* - 7 ' \ ; *Tm sure be didn’t—l can’t see a journey for him—l mean an immediate tourney. There are Journeys all around

s»»«i —ue uavei» a great aeai —out -i don’t see anything for (today— for tomorrow ; there’s nothing like that near. But I do get the word—clalraudiently—‘Hiding.’ That doesn’t help things much for us.if he is!” “Or for Claire!” , t “No. But please don’t think I’m not willing to do >ll I can for the child for het own sake. But having her thrust on me in this mysterious way—” She broke off and looked at me helplessly and Tfinished for her: “Has upyou.” ‘‘Terr|bly! I’m nearly distracted! And that Isn’t all—l mean Claire’s being thrust on me; there's a new man come on the scene—l’m more troubled about him than almost anything else.” “A new man? When did he appear?” “Last night—just after I got back from here and was waiting for monsieur; so I let him in—” and she described the very man who had just been to see me, and who was either a thief or Baron von Follow-up for the Emperor William,;as Billy had called him. He had reached Mrs. Delario as he had me, through Claire, saying she had disappeared. “And what’s your impression of this new man?” I asked. I was beginning to take some little stock in her impressions, partly because, they coincided with my own; partly because I was clutching at anything that might help. "Trouble —trouble for monsieur. I get the word clairaudiently. You see, I’m so upset—why. my dear, it isn’t any more possible for me to do my work —get my readings ri^ht —in an atmosphere of confusion —and fear and anxiety—than it Is for you to do your work —write, and compose beautiful, things. Youxouldn’t, could you? You couldn’t if you were >ll upset?” I admitted I shouldn’t expect ip produce much of my own line of goods under like circumstances; and having won this from me, she laid her hand on my arm in an appealing way and said: “It’s why I came to you—l didn’t know what else to do or where to turn for advice. What am I to do about Claire?” I was sure I didn’t know, but I asked some trite question about how she seemed to be taking it.

■“The poor child went into hysterics the minute she got In the house ! £ had to put her to bed. I’m afraid she’s In for a sickness —a nervous breakdown.” “But the diamonds?” said I, meaning to test her attitude, since she’d had a chance to think over what I’d told her about monsieur’s claims on them and particularly as he’d gone to her himself: “WUI you take them home with you?” She recoiled from me. "I can’t — now—how can I?” she gasped, “Oh, you’re going to help me, aren’t you?” She had caught hold of me and looked positively frightened as she spoke, glancing over her shoulder at the door to see that it was tight shut and that we could not be overheard. “I depend* on you—l trust you. It I* lose those diamonds —oh, you can’t guess what I shall Jose! I Wouldn’t Ue to you—l tell you that man De Ravenol Is a thief. I get it clairaudiently every time he comes near me. I see the word, as I told you yesterday, over his head in white letters. Mv spirit guides wouldn’t give it to me if it weren’t true.” There was both scorn and appeal In her tone. I saw the moment was not ripe for a discussion of the Tibetan mahatma question. Nor did her renewed expressions of confidence in me Abd; her obvious need of help in the present difficulties lessen the complications that now entangled me. Befdre I coqid think of anything suitable to say. out : “You’ll not desert me, will you?-f-now that I need you worse than pvpv»” (TO BE CONTINUED - *