Jasper County Democrat, Volume 10, Number 47, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 February 1908 — The KING of DIAMONDS. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The KING of DIAMONDS.

By Louis Tracy,

Author of “Wings of the Morning,” “The Pillar of Light,” Etc. COPYRIGHT. 1904, By EDWARD J. CLODS.

The sight brought a lump Into hl» throat. He sank to his knees, pressed down, he felt, by some superior power. "Mother," he said humbly, “forgive me and ask God to forgive me for what I would have done were you not watching over me.” In the spiritual exaltation of the moment he almost expected to find that eweet face peering at him beulgnantly from out the dim background. But be could not see her, and he rose, revivified by this spoken communion with her. He had no shadow of doubt as to her presence. God to him was the universe and his mother the unquestionable means of communication with the Providence that governed his life. He would die rather than abandon that belief. Were It dispelled from his mind he was quite certain that his wealth would vanish with It. It was no haphazard accident which had sent the diamond laden meteor headlong from the sky. He was despairing, dying. His mother appealed fqr him, and, behold! The very elements that control the world obeyed a mighty behest.

He began to work methodically. In the first place, he a fire, for the evening was chilly; then he shook his mattress and swept the floor, gathering Into a heap all the tiny particles with which it was littered. These he collected In a piece of newspaper and folded them Into-a parcel, which again 4ie^lnclosed In a stouter sheet of brown paper, finally tying the whole with a yard of string he carried In his pocket There were hundreds of tiny diamonds in that Insignificant package , and not a few the size of small peas. As a matter of fact, he discovered subsequently that the net of his sweeping brought him In over a £I,OOO. Having examined every nook and crevice of the apartment by the aid of the candle, he satisfied himself that naught remained which would Indicate to the most curious eye any event out of the common having occurred in that bumble dwelling. It was typical of Philip’s implicit faith that he did not unlock the back door until his Interior task was ended. He knew that his meteor was untouched.

There was no wind without. The candle, feeble as Its rays were, Illuminated the small yard sufficiently to reveal its debris of white stones and darker lumps of metal. Beginning nt the doorway, he swept vigorously, but with minutest care, until he had formed four good sized piles on the flagstones. He could not afford to differentiate between the debris of the damaged pavement and the fragments of the meteor. It was easy to distinguish the larger pieces of broken glass from the window Inside the house. In the yard he had neither the time nor tbe light to select tbe bits of shattered stone. All must go together, to be sorted with lelßured care subsequently. He scrutinized the external window sills, the door posts, the chinks of tbe •mall coal house door at the farther end of tho yard, even the rough surfaces of the walls, and removed every speck of loose material. More newspaper was requisitioned, but after utilizing the twine on his parcel of clothing he ran short of string. He coolly went up the stairs, unfastened the rope with which he had Intended to hang himself and loosened Its stiff strands. Soon be had an abundance of strong cord, and four bulky packages were added to the first small one.

i They were heavy, too, weighing several pounds each. In placing them side by side close to the wail benenth the front window he suddenly realized an unforeseen difficulty. If these shreds of matter—the mere husk, as it were, of the meteor—were so ponderous, what would be the weight of the meteor itself? How could he hope to lift It from the hole in which it lay, how convey it from Johnson's Mews to a new and safer habitation? lie might as well endeavor to move an unwilling elephant. 4 The thought chilled him. For the first time since his parting Interview with Mr. Abingdon, Philip experienced a dread of failure. With something of panic in his blood, he snatched the caudle and ran hastily into the yard. He knelt and held the light low in the excavation. Then he cried aloud: "What! Am Iso ready to lose faith in mother?” For the huge metallic mass—so big that it would not enter the bore of the largest cannon known to modern gunnery—^was split asunder in all directions. Its fissures gaped widely as if to mock at him. The rain and steam had done their work well. It was even possible that he would not need the spade, but would be able to pick out each separate chunk with his hand. Instantly he put the thought into execution and succeeded in lifting eral pieces to the yard level. He noted that they were gorged with the dull ■white pebbles, some being the size of pigeon’s eggs. He could not help comparing them in his mind’s eye with the collection now lodged in Isaacsteia’s safe. If those were worth £50,000, these must be of fabulous value. Any other person in the wide world might bare been excused If be pinched himself or winked furiously or took out the gold fllled tobacco pouch for

carefuT Inspection to assure filmself flint he was not dreaming. Not so Philip. The only dominant feeling In his brain was one of annoyance that he should have doubted for one single instant that means would be given him to secure absolute and undisputed control of his treasure.

But there remained the problem of weight. Tils original Idea was to wrap the actual body of the meteor In the stout sack he obtained from O’Brien and then inclose all his valuables in a tin trunk which be would purchase next morning. Any ordinary trunk would certainly be spacious enough, but Its phenomenal weight would unquestionably evoke more comment than he desired, and it would need two strong men to lift it.

This portion of his plan needed to be entirely remodeled, and he was now more than ever thankful that the £SO, save one expended, reposed In his pocket. With money, all things, or nearly all things, were possible. Owing to the cramped space in which the meteor lay, It was no small tasji to bring It to the surface in sections, but he persevered. By strenuous endeavor he accumulated an astonishing pile of Iron ore studded with diamonds, looking not unlike almonds in a brown cake, and the gutteriug candle held low down failed to reveal anything else In the hole. There was a good deal of debris at the bottom, and the depth vrna

now -over four - feet. —To reach to Us full extent be was compelled to Jam his head and shoulders into the exeava tlon and feel blindly with one hand, so he rightly concluded that a final examination might be left until daylight. By this time he was hot and covered with dirt. He stripped, washed himself In front of the fire and changed Into hig new clothes. He did not possess a looking glass, but he felt sure that he presented a remarkably different appearance when attired in a neat serge suit, a clean shirt and reputable boots. His first Impulse was to thrust his discarded garments Into the fire, but sentiment prevailed, and he folded them into a parcel.

Then he extinguished his candle and went out. To his exceeding surprise he discovered that It was nearly 9 o’clock. Time had indeed flown. The shops in the Mile End road open early and close late. lie entered a restaurant where he was unknown, passing; as a matter of policy, the coffee stall of his kindly helper of those former days now so remote In his crowded memories. After eating a hearty jneal, for which he was thoroughly prepared, he tendered a sovereign In payment. 4

The proprietor barely glanced at him. Philip was now well dressed, according to local Ideas, and his strong, erect figure, his resolute face, added two or three years to his age when contrasted with the puny standard of fifteen as set by the poverty stricken East End. He had forgotten to buy a necktie and a new pair of stockings. These omissions he now rectified, and he also purchased a warm, dark gray traveling rug, several yards of drugget, a ball of twine and a pair of scissors. A couple of stout but worn leather portmanteaus caught his eye. “Those are cheap,” said the salesman quickly, “only 15 shillings each.” “I’m not sure I can afford so much,” said Philip hesitatingly, for the rug alone cost £1 Os. “They’re a real bargain—real leather. They were never made under £3 each. “Oh, very well! I will take them.” lie produced £3, got his change and walked away with his goods without causing any wonderment. The shopman was only too glad to have such a customer at that late hour. Philip now knew that he was fairly safe, but he decided that a billycock hat gave him a more mature appearance than a cap. This alteration being effected, he . hurried off to Johnson’s Mews and re-entered his domicile without incident worthy of note. Very quickly, with the help of drugget, scissors and twine, the two small

portmanteaus were peeked with pieces of the meteor and the paper covered parcels already prepared. Wbep each bag weighed about forty pounds be stuffed the remaining space with rolled up newspapers, closed and locked them. He estimated that three larger leather bags, these being less noisy than tin, would hold the remainder of the meteor. As the next morning would find him occupation enough, he decided to do as much as possible that night. Three times he sallied forth and returned with a good sized valise. He paid prices varying from £2 10s. to £8 15s. und always bought secondhand goods. He had locked and strapped the fourth of his goodly array of traveling lings whan he fancied he heard a footstep in the mews. Such an occurrence would have troubled him not a Jot a week ago. Tonight It was extremely rUscon-'"rtin'r.. No'—ill' -!.tiding the weight of the pec! if. portmanteaus, especially the '».• •• <> .rm lifted each bodily In hi# . i ran with it Into the tiny •i.-t.iN-.y! On the trout window there v.. no blind, ouly a small, much worn curtain covering the lower panes, and he did not want any stray loafer to gitae in at him and discover a large quantity of luggage in such a disreputable hovel.

When the fourth bag was disposed of In the dark recess of the scullery he paused for an Instant to listen. There was not a sound. Through the window he could dimly discern the root of the deserted stables opposite. He bent again to the task of packing the fifth portmanteau and was placing In it the last parcel of ore and diamonds when some of the heavy contents fell through one end where the drugget wrapping had been hastily folded.

Shaking the package on the floor as a grocer beats down the contents of a sugar bag, he picked up the fallen specimens and put them in. one by one. A large lump of ora had fallen apart when It dropped. Inside there was a huge kernel, a rough diamond quite as large as JLhen’R egg. £_

Philip smiled as he rechlled his boast to Isnacstein. He examined the stone critically and realized that if it were flawless It must be one of tbe marvels of creation. Without experiencing any positive motive he slipped this unique specimen into his pocket and went on with the reconstruction of the damaged parcel. At last he finished. The portmanteau was lying open on the floor when the thought occurred to him that he might have avoided the flurry and trouble of carrying these heavy articles into the scullery if he had nailed a couple of yards of his drugget across the window. It was not too late even now to rectify this defect. He glanced at the window to ascertain how much material he should cut off and saw a face—an evil, brutal, suspicious face—peering In at him over the top of the curtain. fTO BE CONTINUED!

He glanced at the window and saw a face.