Jasper County Democrat, Volume 10, Number 49, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 March 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, 1004, By EDWARD J. CLODS.

CHAPTER X. ••rqpms in the boy, sir," said the policeman. “Oh, is that him?" observed * the Inspector, sticking his thumbs into his belt and gazing at Philip with professional severity. Philip met their scrutiny without flinching. He leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, one fist clinched over the pouchful of gold, the other guarding a diamond bigger than the Koh-I-Noor. "I am sorry I have only one chair, gentlemen," he said apologetically. “That’s all right lad,” said the Inspector. “The constable here tells me that you very plucklly helped him to capture a notorious burglar. The man was hiding in this mews, and it seems you first saw him looking in through your window. What were you doing at the time?" “Packing my portmanteau.” “Oh, packing your portmanteau.” “Yes. That is it” He stooped and nonchalantly threw it open. His clothes and boots and somp of the other contents were exposed to view. The inspector laughed. “Not many diamonds there, Bradley." “No, sir. I told you Mason was talking rubbish.” “Did be say any more about me being the boy who found the meteor?” asked Philip, with a first rate attempt at a grin. —“Wouldn’t talk of any thing else," volunteered P. C. Bradley. “Judging by the way he dropped when 1 hit him, I expect he saw stars,” •aid Philip. “Are you leaving here?” asked the inspector. “Yes, I must. The company which owns these premises intends to pull them down on the first of next month." “What is your name?” “Anson.” "Ah! I think I remember hearing something about your mother’s death. Very nice woman, I was told. A lady too.” “Yes; all that and more.” “Of course. That accounts for your manners and appearance. Have you found some friends?” The inspector’s glance roved from the serviceable portmanteau to Philip’s tidy garments, and it watt his business to make rapid deductions. “Yes, most fortunately.” “Anybody connected with Sharpe & Smith?” the constable put in. “Sharpe & Smith? Who are they?” “Don’t you know? Their young man certainly didn’t seem to know much about your movements. He has been here twice looking for you. The first time was—let me see—last Monday •bout 4 o’clock. I was on duty in the main road, and he asked me for some Information. We came and looked In, but your door was locked. The man on this beat this afternoon told me that the same clerk was making further inquiries today, so as soon as I came on night duty I strolled into the mews to find out if you were at home. That is how I happened to see you.” He turned toward the inspector. “He was packing his bag at the moment, sir, and Mason had evidently been scared from the window by my footsteps in the arch.” The inspector pursed out his underlip. “The whole thing is perfectly clear,” he said. ’“Boy, have you got a watch?” “No,” said Philip, surprised by this odd question. “Bradley, be hasn't got a watch,” observed the inspector. He again addressed Philip. “Where are you going tomorrow?” “I am not quite sure, but my address will be known to Mrs. Wrigley, the James street laundry, Shepherd’s Bush." “Ah! The constable says you do not wish to be mixed up in the arrest of Mason. There is no need for you to appear in court, but—er—ln such cases as yours the—er—police like to show their—er—appreciation of your services. That is so, Bradley, isn’t it?’ “Yes, sir. If it hadn’t been for him, ' sbouldh’t be here now. Jocky had die fairly cornered.” “You had no time to summon assistance?” “I barely heard he was here before the window was smashed, and I knew he was trying to get out the other way. You heard him, Anson?” Philip looked the policeman squarely In the eyes. “You had just taken off your greatToat when the glass cracked," he said. Police Constable Bradley stooped to pick up his coat He did not wish this portion of the night's proceedings to be described too minutely. In moving the garment he disturbed the packet of letters. Instantly Philip recalled the names of the solicitors mentioned by the constable. “You said that a clerk from Messrs. Sharpe & Smith called here twice?” he asked. “Yes.” He picked out one of the letters, opened it and made certain of his facts before he cried angrily: “Then I want to have nothing whatever to do with them. They treated my mother shamefully.” The inspector had sharp eyes. "What la the date of that letter?* he Inquired. "Jan. 18 of this year.” “And what are those—rcwn ttc’ c*-?’

“Yes, some of my mother’s jewelry and dresses. Her wedding ring was the last to go. Most of them are out of date, hut I Intend to—l will try to save some of them, especially her wedding ring.” Jocky Mason’s romance was now dissipated into thin air. The contents of the portmanteau, the squalid appearance of the house, the date of the solicitor’s letter, the bundle of pawn tickets offered conclusive evidence to the inspector's matter of fact mind that the ex-convict’s story was the effect of a truncheon rapidly applied to a brain excited by the newspaper comments on a sensational yarn about some boy who had found a parcel of diamonds. This youngster had not been favored by any such extraordinary piece of luck. Simple chance had led him to put the police on the track of a much wanted scoundrel, and he had very bravely prevented a member of the force from being badly worsted in the ensuing encounter. A subscription would be made among the officers and men of the division, and they would give him a silver watch with a suitable Inscription. The inspector noted the address given by Philip. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask his Christian name, when the constable suggested that they should examine the. stable in which Mason had hidden. They went up the mews. Philip locked fils door, extinguished his candle and lay down on the mattress, fully dressed, with his newly bought rug for covering. He was so utterly tired, so exhausted physicailv and mentally by the sturm und drang of this eventful day that he was sound asleep when the two men returned. They saw him through the window. “He’s a fine lad,” said the Inspector thoughtfully. “I wonder what he is going to make of himself. We might have asked him who his friends were, but they are not badly off, or he couldn't have got that bag and his new clothes. What on earth caused Mason to connect him with that diamond story ?” “It’s hard to say,” observed the constable. “I will look round and have a chat with him In the morning. Poor llttlo chap! He’s sleeping like a top now.” The Inspector called at No. 3 Johnson's Mews soon after 10 next morning, but the door was locked and the bird flown. He spoke to Mason after that worthy was remanded for a week, but a night’s painful seclusion had sealed the burglar’s Ups. He vowed, with, fearful emphasis, to “get even” with the kid who “ahted” him, for the policeman's evidence had revealed the truth concerning the arrest But not another word would Mason say about the diamonds, and for a little while the Inspector placed his overnight revelations in the category of myths familiar to the police in their daily dealings with criminals. Philip awoke shortly before 7. He was cold and stiff. The weather was chilly, and there was no ardent meteor in the back yard to keep the temperature of the house at a grateful point during the night. But his active young frame quickly dissipated the effects of a deep sleep on a drafty floor. He washed his face and hands at the sink in the scullery, and his next thought was for breakfast, a proof, If proof were needed, that he arose refreshed in mind and body. In the Mile End road there are plenty of early morning restaurants. At one of them he made a substantial meal, and, on his return to the mews, he lost not a moment in carrying out a systematic search through all parts of the house and yard for any traces of the meteor which might have escaped bis ken in the darkness. Amid the earth and broken stones of the excavation there were a few fragments of ore and some atomic specimens of the diamantiferous material—not sufficient, all told, to till the palm of his hand, but he gathered them for obvious reasons and then devoted five vigorous minutes with O’Brien’s spade to the task of filling up the deep hole Itself. By lowering the flagstones und breaking the earth beneath he soon gave the small yard an appearance of chaos Which might certainly puzzle people, but which would afford no ■possible clew to the nature of the disturbing element. At best they might Imagine that the tread evidence of some weird crime lay in the broken area. If so, they could dig until they were tired. But, indeed, he was now guarding against a most unlikely hypothesis. The probability was that Johnson’s Mews would soon cease to exist and become almost as fabulous as the Island of Atlantis. Moreover, he had a project dimly outlined in bls mind which might become definite if all went well with him that day. Then the ownership of No. 3, Johnson's 'Mews, would cease to trouble him, for Philip was quite sure the whole power of the- law would be invoked to prevent him from dealing with his meteor if once the exact place where it fell became publicly known. - - ----------. .... v

O’Brien’s shop was scarcely open before Philip was there with his remaining portmanteau. “Arrah, Phil, me bhoyt Where in the name of goodness are ye gatherin’ the beeutiful leather thrunks from?” asked the pensioner. • * “This is the last one,” laughed the boy. “I am off now to find a cab, and you won’t see me again until Monday.’’ “Falx, he's a wonderful lad entirely?’ commented the old man. “What sort of plundher has he in the bags, at all at all?’ In idle curiosity he lifted the last addition to the pile. It was normal, even light In weight. Then he nodded knowingly. “A lot of ould duds belongin’ to Mrs. Anspn, I’ll be boun’. Ah, well, the Lord rest her sowl, ’tie she was the fine woman. I wish I had some one as diver as her to write for me to that thafe of the worruld who thrled”— As there are no signs In the art of literature similar to those which serve

the needs of musicians, whereby thoughts can be expressed da capo, like a musical phrase, without risk 6f wearying the reader, it must be understood that Philip had returned from faraway Fenchurch street station with a four wheeler before O'Brien exhausted tfie first tirade of the day against the war office. With a cunning that amounted to genius, the boy placed the large, light portmanteau and the two small, heavy ones on the roof of the vehicle, where the driver did not notice the least peculiarity in their weight. The two large, heavy bags he managed to lift into the interior, one of them needing all his resources to carry it from the shop door to the cab. Were he not fresh and untired he could not have done it. As it was, the effort was a splendid success. The cabman knew little and O’Brien less of the tremendous avoirdupois of this innocent looking baggage. A long suffering horse may have had his private views, but he did not express them. Saying goodby to the pensioner in the shop, Philip took good care that none overheard his direction to the driver. In about three-quarters of an hour he lumbered into Charing £ross station without a soul in the East End being aware of his destination. “Where to, sir?” asked a porter who opened the door for him. “I only want these bags to be taken to the luggage room,” said Philip. “You had better get some one to help you with these two. They are very heavy. They contain specimens of iron ore.” The man took a pull at the solid one. “By gum,” he grinned, “you’re right! That would surprise anybody who tried to pick it up and run away with it.” “Rather,” agreed Philip. “I am glad to say it is not going very far, only to a laboratory for analysis.” He saw his belongings wheeled away on a barrow before he paid the cabman liberally. He only gave the porter sixpence. The man believed that Philip was a clerk in charge of the minerals. He was grateful for even so small a sum. On leaving the station, with the receipt for his luggage in his pocket, Philip saw the four wheeler turning into the Strand on its way back to Fenchurch street. He smiled. The tie between east and west -was severed. No matter what else might happen to it, his meteor had left Johnson’s Mews forever. It was now a few minutes past 9, but he still had a good deal to do before he presented himself at Isaacstein’s at 11. [TO SK CONTINUEDI

O'Brien’s shop was scarcely open before Philip was there.