Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 58, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 March 1920 — Diamond Cut Diamond [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Diamond Cut Diamond

By JANE BUNKER

OHVTIgM tar th* Bobb*-M*rrlU Cam—> me train nasned into me that he’d already traced monsieur to my flat and the determination to see me was only an excuse to lay hold on him: and at the same moment monsieur touched me on the shoulder and by signs communicated the same fear, ending with a pantomimic appeal to me to save him. “Mr. Smith,” I called through the door again, “you asked for a private interview with me and now you have it. I will put my ear to the keyhole and you may whisper through what you have to say.” He said something that I didn't catch —I know it was a bad word—and replied with politeness, “If you will kindly unlock the door and allow me to enter, you will have no cause to regret it. On my word of honor, I assure you that no harm shall come to you—or any property of yours.” "Thanks for your kind assurance and I won’t unlock the door.” “Madame, I beg of you to listen to reason —” “Mr. Jones, if you are not out of there in two minutes, I shall telephone for the police.” “If you do not unlock this door in two seconds I shall break it in.” He waited two seconds; then tak-

Ing th« tool with which he had pried open the dumb-waiter door, he started to jimmy open the kitchen door. “Stop I” I commanded. He stopped—evidently thinking I meant to unlock the door. "It won’t do you one particle of good to jimmy this door open,” I began, "because I have a chain-bolt cm here the same as on the front door. Listen -J' and I rattled the chain against the woodwork. "Do you hear that? Well, that means that before you can get through that door, you’ll have to take it off its hinges—and you can’t very well do that, because it opens in on your side. Is that clear to you? Look at the hinges, if it isn’t” 1 heard him say “Diable” again, fiercely but softly, and then tread quietly along the floor and push the catch on the window. I flew to my bedroom, and seising the revolver Billy had brought me, I threw up the window—at right angles io the kitchen window —and just as he was about to step on to the fire-escape and try .the bathroom window, I shouted, “Hold on, there!” and aimed the revolver at his head. He ducked back in a hurry, peeking at me from behind the window-frame. “There’s no use in your trying the bathroom window,” said L “It’s nailed down, and before you. could break the

glass and get in, I’d have shot you dead. Go back to the kitchen door—l have something to say to you.” I He did aa I told him, and I returned to my side of the door, revolver in hand “Now, Mr. Robinson, I want you to go out the way you came in—and hurry,” said L “Yes, madame, I shall do so immediately. But first I wish to ask you a single question —is a gentleman by the name of De Ravenol in your flat with you now?” “Ask anything you please.” “Pardon —I did not understand what you said. Is he there?” “I said you might ask anything you pleased.” “Ah —I understand now—” “Mr Jackson, rd like you to understand one thing—my revolver Is pressed against the other side of the door —hear that?” I clicked the muztle on the door several times. “It is loaded and I can fire it. And lam going to —if you are not out of that kitchen in just three seconds.” “Certainly, madame. But before you fire, let me give you a piece of information that may be of value to you: I have a warrant for the arrest of that gentleman, De Ravenol.” Monsieur’s hand flew up as he heard it and his jaw dropped open, but he made no sound. “Have you a warrant for my arrest also?” I asked. “No, madame—and I would not trouble you, only that we have traced the man here.” “Have you anything else to say to me, Mr. Simpkins?” “Only to repeat that I have a warrant for De Ravenol’s arrest and I believe him to be with you at this moment. And so I. ask you to open the door.” “You have the warrant actually with you?” There was a rustling of papers—- “ Yes.” “Slip it under the door and let me see ; -• • An edge of paper slid under the door and I made a dive for it The edge disappeared. “Will you return this warrant to me?”

‘Tm not saying what I shall do — but I have the right to demand to see it, since you’ve broken into my flat.” There was a silence of' considerable length—l don’t know what he was planning to do, but I thought I heard him moving cautiously about, and I shouted, “You haven’t any warrant! You are simply trying to get in here and rob me! Now then, Mr. Jenkins, TH give you five seconds to get out the way you came in. I shall fire through the door when I count five. Beady! One ... two . . “Goodby,” he called. "You will see rhe agwin—end ■ wish you had been more civil.” “Three . . , four . . .” I heard him scrambling onto the dumb-waiter and then the cumbersome, cloggy sound it makes when It goes down loaded. ’ I waited till it had reached bottom and then unlocked the door end peeped In over the chain-bolt. He was gone—there was no pretense about it

“Quick, monsieur,” I said, snatching up his coat, “put on your things and go.” I thrust the ice pick in his hand, threw off the chain-bolt, dashed for the dumb waiter and began pulling it up, band over fist, as fast as I could go. “Mon Dieu I What shall I doF “Skip 1 Get down into your own flat and hide. That man will be back here with a police officer in five minutes.” The top of the dumb waiter had come up level with the sin, but at my words monsieur’s nerve seemed to forsake him entirely. "He will be back—after he Is gone wlsout to find me? —and he brings se police?” “Of course he will —just to justify himself to me If for nothing else —and to satisfy himself that you’re not here in hiding. You heard him say he’d traced you here.” “Zen I am lost—-and my little Claire is lost” k He seemed about to sink down In M hear again, “No, you’re not Where’s your hat?

Get it" He brought bls bat from the dining room, jamming it on his head and whispering, as he looked at the dumb waiter: "How shall I make my ecsape wis zls? I have never in my life—” “Get on,” I commanded. "Don’t stop to talk about it—unless you wish to be found here and arrested. You haven’t a minute to lose.” He hesitated, murmuring, “Mon Qi— how o*o r make s—w* *

-sea jour oruy caancc m save yourMtf and Claire,” I urged. “Let yourmlf down to your flat and pry open the door. Hold her steady—go slow—count the doors and don’t miss yours,” I whispered as a parting warning, and be began his descent At that moment I caught the sound of the elevator coming up—it might or might not be the detective, but I took no risks. Leaving the dumb waiter door just as the Unknown had left it I slipped softly to the kitchen door, closed and locked it and put up the chain-bolt again. To the casual eye the kitchen was as it had been five minutes before, untouched, unopened. As I stepped into the dining room the front bell rang long and loud. I lot It ring and ring again, and heard a voice, “Yes—she’s there.” The fourth ring was followed by th© pounding of a heavy hand. I had been listening to the dumb waiter and it had now stopped. _I, thought it safe to make a move on my side, so I walked noisily along the hall and called through the door, “Who’s there?” “Police officer. Open the door, please.” “What precinct?” There was a grunt before he answered, “Thirty-six.” “Oh, all right!” I opened the door on the chain-bolt. There stood a broad-shouldered “one of the finest,” and off to one side of him, looking very pale and insignificant, my detective. “Oh, it’s you!” I exclaimed affably, addressing the officer and taking no notice of the detective.

“If ye’ll open the door—” he suggested very politely. “With pleasure,” and I took off the chafn-hplt and threw the door wide open. “Step In,” said L “Now, officer, what is the trouble?” “Well, you see, this gentleman here believes you’re hiding a party he’s got a warrant fer.” "Help yourselves,” said I curtly, moving aside to let them pass. The Unknown darted along the dining room; the officer followed; I brought up the rear. A glance showed that both the dining room and my study opening into it were empty. He went back to the bedroom—casting a glance at the kitchen door as he passed, which was chain-bolted as I’d told him it was—and looked under the bed. After that he peered into the bathroom and returned for a final survey of the double room before unlocking the kitchen door. As he threw it open the first thing that caught his eye was the dumb-waiter door, gaping wide the way he’d left it, and as he stepped across the threshold I shot off at him, “I hid your man in the refrigerato6—be sure to look there.”

And he pulled open the refrigerator doors!

I gave the officer a look. This was too much for the Irish In him, and he threw back his head with a guffaw. I checked him with another look that gave him to understand I thought there was something queer about my other visitor, who, very red now, slammed the doors and faced us. “I’d have taken my oath that man was here fifteen minutes ago,” he exteou&tcd* “Then he’s give y* the slip,” jibed the big officei>—“if he was here at aIL” The tone of his last words showed considerable doubt “It appear so,” replied the other vaguely, and they followed me to my study, the officer, whose sympathies were all with me by this time, telling me heartily; “I guess that’ll be all and we’ll wish you good morning,” and motioned to the Unknown to leflve. I smiled—l tried to make it a very sarcastic smile—and told the Unknown, “I hope this won’t interfere with your keeping your appointment here tomorrow.” "Certainly not With your kind permission I shall see you at nine o’clock tomorrow.” He bowed himself out He seemed In a hurry, and I fancied he was anxious to communicate with his guard; and I shut the door on him, little supposing he’d really keep his appointment, or that when he did our positions would be reversed and I should be asking favors of him 1 (TO BE CONTINUED)

The Door Burst Open.