Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 13, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 June 1908 — The KING of DIAMONDS. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The KING of DIAMONDS.

By Louis Tracy,

\ Author of "Wlntfa of the Momintf,” “The Pillar of y. Light,” Etc. y * ♦ COPYRIGHT. 1004. By EDWARD J. CLODE.

SYNOPSIS TO PREVIOUS CHAPTERB. Chapter I—At Johnson’s Mews, a slum In London, Philip Anson, a well reared boy cf about fifteen, loses his mother, the only tdallve, so far as he knows, that he has In the world. He finds a package of letters, many of them from a Sir Philip Morland, refusing aid to Mrs. Anson. Mrs. Anson was a Miss Morland and was thought by her relatives to have married beneath tier station. ll—During a great atorm Philip saves a little girl, addressed as Elf, from being crushed by a carriage. In his squalid apartments Philip, sick of the outlook and discouraged, is about to hang himself when a huge meteor falls in the courtyard. Philip, sympathetic and imaginative, regards it as a message from his mother in heaven. Ill—With some fragments of the meteor Philip goes to a jeweler. He is told that they are diamonds and Is referred to Isaacsteln ft Co., London's largest dealers In diamonds. TV—lsaacsteln Is astounded by the gems Philip shows him and has the boy arrested. V—lsaacsteln explains In court that the gems are doubtless of recent meteoric origin. Vl—The wife of Sir Philip Morland reads In the papers about Philip and his marvelous diamonds and aends to Johnson's Mews to Inquire about him. She learns nothing. Philip Is dismissed from custody, vll—Philip agrees to supply Isaacsteln with a quarter of a million pounds sterling worth of diamonds each year for many years. VIII and IX—At Johnson's Mews, while Philip «is preparing to remove the rest of his diamonds, ne detects an Intruder, who, with the assistance of a policeman. Is captured. He Is a noted criminal named Jocky Mason. Philip removes his diamonds forever from Johnson's Mews. X, XI and Xll—lsaacsteln sells thirty of Philip's diamonds for £62,000. XIII— Ten years later, when Jocky Mason gets out of prison, he sees the Mary Anson Home For Destitute Boys, which was founded by Philip, XlV—Philip rescues a girl from Insult at the hands of two men, one of whom Is Victor Grenier, an ex-fellow convict of Jocky Mason. XV and XVl—The girl rescued by Philip is a Miss Atherley, an opera singer, who proves to be the Elf of Philip's adventure of many years before. Grenier's companion was a nephew of Grenier. His name is Langdon. XVII —Philip receives a letter telling him that Sir Philip Morland is dying and begging him to come. A man calling himself ‘Tir. Williams" meets Philip at the depot and escorts him to the house. XVlll—Philip finds too late that he has fallen into a trap set by Grenier, Jocky Mason ana Langdon. Philip Is struck violently on -the head bv Mason and is supposed to be dead. Ills body is stripped naked and thrown from a cliff into the sea. Grenier, who resembles Philip, is to take his place In the world and got hold -cf his money, for the gang.

The following day It was Mason’s duty to report himself under hls ticket-of-leave, but It was quite unusual for the police to give a preliminary warning In this respect. Failure on his part meant arrest. That was all the officials looked after. “What’s up now?" he muttered. "Anyway, Grenier was right. This gives me a cast iron alibi. I’ll acknowledge It at once.” Hlb accomplice, hoping to obtain sleep from champagne, consumed the contents of a small bottle In hls bedroom, while he scanned the columns of the local evening papers for any reference to a “seaside mystery" on the Yorkshire coast. There was none. Anson’s body had not been recovered yet. Before going to bed he wound Philip’s watch. He examined it now with greater interest than be had bestowed ~on It hitherto. Although silver, it appeared to be a good one. He opened the case to examine the works. Inside there was an Inscription: Presented to Philip Anson, aged fifteen years, by the officers and men of th« Whitechapel division of the metropolitan police as a token of their admiration for his bravery in assisting to arrest a notorious burglar. Beneath was the date of Mason’k capture. “Where was I ten years ago?” ht mused. He looked back through the soiled leaves of a sordid record and found that he \yas then acting in a melo drama entitled “The Wages of Sin.” And the wages of sin is death! The drama insisted on the full measure of Biblical accuracy. Altogether Grenier lay down to rest under unenviable conditions. He dreamed that he was falling down precipices and striking sheets of blue water with appalliug splashes. Each time he was awakened by the shock. But lie was a hardy rogue where conscience was concerned, and he swore himself to sleep again. Itest he must have. He must arise with steady head and clear brain. He was early astir. Hls first act was to send for the Yorkshire morning papers. They contained no news of Philip Ansou dead, but the lbcal sheet chronicled hls arrival at York. This was excellent. The banker would see it. A few priuted lines carry great weight In such matters. Then he signed the leases, dispatched them In a typewritten envelope and telegraphed: Documents forwarded this morning. Please meet wishes expressed in letter. “Surely,” he reflected, “Abingdon will not give another thongbt to .my proceedings. Philip Anson is not a boy In leading strings.” He wired to Evelyn: Sorry for misunderstanding. Blue Atom must wait until my return. Here was a way out Whatever that wretched speck of color meant, it could be dealt with subsequently. But Evelyn’s prompt reply only made confusion worse confounded: Delay is impossible. The man has put oft the duchess two days already. So a man and a duchess and a period of time were mixed up with a blue •tom. He must do something desperate—begin his plan of alienation sooner than be intended. He answered:

Too busy to attend to matter further. Going to Leeds today. Letters here aa usual. And to Leeds he went. Residence in York was a fever—a constant fret. In Leeds he was removed from the arena. He p A sued the afternoon and evening In roaming the streets, consumed with a fiery desire to be doing, daring, braving difficulties. Rut he must wait at least another day before he could lay bands on any portion of Philip Anson's wealth save the money stolen from his pockets. At the hotel there was only one letter and no telegrams. The London bankers wrote: We beg to acknowledge yours of yesterday. Your cash balance at date Is £12.410 9s. Id. Your securities in our possession amount to a net value at today’s prices of about £920,000, including £260,000 consols at par. We will forward you a detailed list if desired and will be pleased to realize any securities as directed. Kindly note that Instructions for sals should be given in your bandwriting and not typed.

There was Joy, Intoxicating almost to madness, in this communication, but it was not unleavened by the elements of danger and delay. His signature had been accepted without demur. He could control an enormous sum without question. These were the entrancing certainties which dazzled his eyes for a time. But It was horribly annoying that a millionaire should keep his current account so low, and the concluding paragraph held a bogey, not wholly unforeseen, but looming large when it actually presented Itself. The memorandum In Philip’s handwriting on Evelyn’s letter was now

thrice precious. He hurriedly scrutinized it and at once commenced to practice the words. “Devonshire” and “Sharpe” gave him the capitals for “Dear Sirs.” He was at a loss for a capital “C,” but he saw that Philip used the simplest and boldest outlines In hls caligraphy, and he must risk a “C” without the upper loop. In “Lady M.,” too, he had the foundation of the “£" to precede the requisite figures. Soon he framed a letter in the fewest words possible: Yours of today’s date received. Kindly sell consols value £150,000 and place the same to my credit.

He copied it again and again, until it was written freely and carelessly, and every letter available compared favorably with the orginal in hls posses* blou. Then be posted it, thus saving a day, according to bis calculations.

With this missive committed Irrevocably to the care of bis majesty’s mails, Victor Grenier’s spirits rose. Now, indeed, be was In the whirlpool. Would he emerge high and dry in the El Dorado of gilded vice which be longed to enter, or would fortune consign him to Portland again—perchance to the scaffold? He could not say. He would not feel safe until Philip Anson was a myth and Victor Grenier a reality, with many thousands in the bank.

Already be was planning plausible lies to keep Mason out of his fair share of the plunder. A few more forged letters would easily establish the fact that he >vas unable to obtain a bigger haul than, say, £50,000. And what did Mason want with £25,000? He was a gnurled man, with crude tastes. Twenty, fifteen, ten thousand would be ample for bis wants. The sooner he drank himself to death the better.

With each fresh cigar Mason's moiety shrank in dimensions. The murder was a mere affair of a vengeful blow, but this steady sucking of the millionaire's riches required finesse, a dashing adroitness, the superb impudence of a Cagliostro. But if his confederate’s Interests suffered, the total fixed in Grenier's original scheme in nowise became affected. He meant to have a hundred thousand pounds, and he firmly decided not to go beyond that amount. His letter to the bankers named £150.000, and he calculated that by stopping short at two-thirds of the available

'sum he would uot give auy grounds for suspicion or personal inquiry. Yet he would shirk nothing. Mr. Abingdon and Miss Atherley must be avoided at all events, others be would face blithely. He took care to have ever on the table in his sitting room at goodly supply of wines and spirits. If any one sought an interview. It might %e helpful to sham a slight degree of intoxication. The difference between Philip drunk and Philip sober would then be accounted for readily. But rest—that was denied him. It was one thing to harden himself against surprise, quite another to forget that disfigured corpse swirling about In the North sea. He wished now that Philip Anson had not been cast forth naked. It was a blunder not to dress him, to provide him with means of identification with some unknown Smith or Jones. When he closed his eyes he conld see a shadowy form wavering helplessly in green depths. Never before were bis hands smeared with blood. He had touched every crime save murder.

Physically he was a coward. In plotting the attack on Philip be had taxed his ingenuity for weeks to discover some means where he need not become Mason's actual helper. He rejected project after project. The thing might be bungled, sq be must attend to each part of the undertaking himself abort of using a bludgeon. He slept again and dreamed of long flights through space pursued by demons. How he longed for day! How slowly the hours passed after dawn until the newspapers were obtainable, with their columns of emptiness for him. A letter came from Evelyn. It was a trifle reserved, with an impulse to tears concealed in it: I asked mother for £3O, so the Blue Atom incident has ended, but I don't think I will ever understand the mood In which you wrote your last telegram. Perhaps your letter now in the post—l half expected it at midday—will explain matters somewhat.

He consigned Blue Atom to a sultry clime and began to ask himself why Mr. Abingdon had not written. The ex-magistrate’s reticence annoyed him. r A letter even remonstrating with him Lwould be grateful. This silence was [irritating; it savored of doubt, and {doubt was the one phase of thought he lavished to keep out of Mr. Abingdon’s ‘mind at that moment. As for Evelyn, she mistrusted even hls telegrams, while a bank had accepted his signature without reservation. He would punish her with zest Philip Anson’s memory would be poisoned In her heart long before she realized that be was dead. (To be continued.)

Inside the watch there was an inscription.