Jasper County Democrat, Volume 10, Number 51, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 March 1908 — The KING of DIAMONDS. [ARTICLE]

The KING of DIAMONDS.

By Louis Tracy,

Author of ••Whig* of the Morning.” “The Pillar of Light.” Etc.* COPYRIGHT. 1904, By EDWARD J. CLODB.

CHAPTER XI. W FTER picking up his belongings /\ at the outfitter’s, two smart j \ Gladstone bags with “P. A." A K. nicely painted on them, Philip •topped his cab at Somerset House. He experienced no difficulty in reaching the proper department for stamping documents, and thus giving them legal significance. An official glanced at Isaacsteln’s contract note and then looked at Philip, evidently regarding him as a relative or youthful secretary of the “Philip Anson, Esq., Pall Mall hotel,” whose name figured on the paper. "I suppose you only want this to be Indicated?” he said. “Yes,” agreed Philip, who had not the remotest idea what he meant. “Sixpence,” was the curt rejoinder. Philip thought be would be called on to pay many pounds—some amount in the nature of a percentage of the sum named In the agreement He produced the coin demanded and made no comment. With stamp or without he knew that Isaacsteln would go straight in this preliminary undertaking. A ■lngle glimpse of the monster diamond in his pocket had made that quite certain. t For the rest he was rapidly making out a plan which should secure bls interests effectually. He hoped before the day was out to have set on foot arrangements which would free him from all anxiety. From Somerset House he drove to the Pall Mall hotel. A gigantic hall porter, looking like a youthful major general In undress uniform, received him with much ceremony and ushered him to the office, where an urbane elerk Instantly classed him as the avant courier of an American family. “I want a sitting room and bedroom en suite," said Philip. - “One bedroom?” was the surprised query. “Yes.” “How many of you ore “I beg your pardon?” •Are you alone?” “Yes.”

The clerk fumbled with the register. Precocious Juveniles were not unknown to him, but a boy of Philip’! type had not hitherto arisen o*er his horizon. “A sitting room and a bedroom en suite?” he replied. “Exactly." The clerk was disconcerted by Philip's steady gaze. “On what floor?" he asked. "Really," said Philip, “I don’t know. Suppose you tell me what accommodation you have. Then I will decide at once.” The official, who was one of the most skilled hotel clerks in London, found it ridiculous to be put out of countenance by a mere boy who could not bo a day older than seventeen and might be a good deal less. He cast a critical eye on Philip’s clothing and mw that, while it was good, it had not the gloss of Vers de Vere. He would paralyze him at one fell blow, little dreaming that the other read his glance and knew the exact mental process of his reasoning. “There is a good suit vacant on the first floor, but It contains a dressing room and bathroom,” he said, smiling the smile of a very knowing person. “That sounds all right. I will take it” j “Ah, yes. It costs £5 a day!” Each of the six words in that pon tentous sentence contained a note of admiration that swelled out into a magnificent crescendo. It was a verbal avalanche, beneath which this queer youth should be crushed into the very dust. “Five pounds a day!” observed Philip calmly. “I suppose there would be a reduction If taken for a month?" “Well—er—during the season it is not—er—usual to”—“Oh, very well. I can easily arrange for a permanency later if I think fit. What number is the suit, please, and will you kindly have my luggage sent there at once?” The clerk was demoralized, but he managed to say: “Do yoji quite understand the terms —thirty-five pounds a week!” “Yes* said Philip. “Shall I pay you a week in advance? I can give you notes, but it will oblige me if you take a check, as I may want the ready money In my possession." Receiving a faint Indication that, under the circumstances, a check would be esteemed a favor, Philip whipped out his check book, filled in a check to the hotel, and did not forget to cross it “ac. payee.” The clerk watched him with an amazement too acute for words. He produced the register and Philip signed his name. He was given a receipt for the payment on account, and then asked to be shown to his rooms.

A boy smaller, but not younger, than himself—a smart page, who listened to the foregoing with deep interestasked timidly whether the guest would go by the stairs or use the elevator. •‘I will walk,” said Philip, who liked to ascertain his bearings. The palatial nature of the apartments took him by surprise when he reached them. Although far from be Ing the most expensive suit in the hotel, the surroundings were of a nature vastly removed from anything hitherto known to him.

Even the charming house he Inhabited as a child In Dieppe contained no such luxury. His portmanteau followed quickly, and a valet entered. Philip's quick ears caught the accent of a Frenchman, and the boy spoke to the man In the language of bls country, pure and undefiled by the barbarisms of John Bull. They were chatting about the weather, which, by the way, ever since the 19th of March had been extraordinarily fine, when there was a knock at the door, and the manager entered. The clerk found the situation too much for him. He had appealed to a higher authority. Even the suave and diplomatic M. Foret could not conceal the astonishment that leaped to his eyes when he saw the occupant of suit F. “I think you will find these rooms very comfortable," he said for lack of aught better. A commlsslonnalre was already on his way to the bank to ask If the check was all right. “Are you the manager?” asked Philip, who was washing bis hands. “Yes.” “I am glad you called. One of your clerks seemed to be taken aback because a youngster like me engaged an expensive suit. I suppose the proceeding Is unusual, but there is no reason why It should create excitement. It need not be commented on, for Instance.” A “No, no; of course not.” "Thank you very much. I have a special reason for wishing to live at this hotel. Indeed, I have given this address for certain Important documents. Will you kindly arrange that I may be treated like any ordinary pereon.” "I hope the clerk was not rude to you?"

"Not in the least I am only anxious to prevent special notice being taken of me. You see, If others get to know I am living here alone, I will be pointed out as a curiosity, and that will not be pleasant" The request was eminently reasonable. The manager assured him that strict orders would be given on the point instantly, though he was quite certain in his own mind that inquiry would soon be made for this remarkable youth, perhaps by the police. "You can leave us," said Philip to the valet in French. Now the chance use of that language, no less than his perfect accent went a long way toward removing the manager’s suspicions. A boy who was so well educated must be unite out of the common. Perhaps some eccentric parent or guardian encouraged him to act independently thus early in life. He might be the son of a rich man coming to London for a special course of study. The name, Anson, was an aristocratic one. But his clothes—they were odd. Good enough, but not the right thing. “Will you oblige me my recommending a good tailor?” said Philip. “I need a complete outfit of wearing apparel, and it will save me a lot of trouble if somebody will tell me exactly what to buy and where to buy it” His uncanny trick of thought reading disconcerted the manager greatly. Undoubtedly the boy was a puzzle. Never had this experienced man of the world met any one more self possessed, more direct and yet, with it all, exceedingly polite. “1 take it that you want the best?" he inquired pleasantly. “Yes.” “Are you lunching in the hotel?” “I would like something sent here, if you please, and there again your advice will be most gratefully accepted.” The manager felt that a generation was growing up of which he knew nothing, but he simply answered: “I will see to it. Do you—er—take wine?” Philip laughed, that pleasant whole souled laugh of his which Instantly secured him friends. “Not yet, monsieur" — “Foret is my name." “Well. M. Foret, I am far too young as yet for either wine or tobacco. I promised my mother I would touch neither until I am twenty-one, and I will keep my word. I think I would like some case au lalt.” “I understand. Your dejeuner will be sent up In ten minutes. By the time you have finished I will have people here from two or three establishments wl® will meet all your requirements iu the shape of clothes and the rest.”

An hour's talk and the payment of checks on account worked wonders. Before many days had passed Philip was amply provided with raiment. His presence in the hotel, too, attracted no comment whatever. People who saw him coming or going Instantly as sumed that he was staying with his people, while the manager took care that gossip among the employees was promptly stopped. As for the ragged youth with the diamonds, he was forgotten apparently. The newspapers dropped him, believing, indeed, that Isaacstein had worked some ingenious advertising dodge on bls own account, and Messrs. Sharpe & Smith never dreamed of looking for the lost Philip Anson, the derelict from Johnson’s Mews, in the Pall Mall hotel, the most luxurious and expensive establishment in London. That afternoon Philip visited the

Safe Deposit company. He had little difficulty, of course, In securing a ■mall strong room. He encountered the wonted surprise at his youth, but the excellent argument of a banking account and the payment of a year’s rent in advance soon cleared the air. He transferred four of his portmanteaus to this secure environment. The fifth was sent to his hotel. When the light failed he drove to the East End and made a round of pawnbrokers’ ■hops. Although some of the tickets were time expired, he recovered nearly all his mother’s belongings excepting her watch. The odd coincidence recalled the Inspector’s Implied promise that he should receive one as a recognition of Vis gallantry. How remote, how far removed from each other, the main events in his life' seemed to be at this eventful epoch! As he went westward In a hansom he could hardly bring himself to believe that barely twenty-four hours had elapsed since he traveled to the Mlle End road In company with Mrs. Wrigley. And the curious thing was that he ffclt In no sense awed by the possesslou of thousands of pounds and the tenancy of palatial chambers In a great hotel. His career had been too checkered, Its recent developments too stupendous, to cause him any undue emotion. Existence for the hour was a species of well ordered dream, in which Imagination was untrammeled save by the need to exercise his wits In order to keep the phantasy within the bounds not of his own brain, but of other men’s. [TO BE CONTINUEDI