Jasper County Democrat, Volume 11, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 July 1908 — the KING of DIAMONDS. [ARTICLE]

the KING of DIAMONDS.

By Louis Tracy,

Author of "Wings of the Morning,” ”Thc Pillar of Light.” Etc. COPYRIGHT, l»0«. By EDWARD J. CLODE.

SYNOPSIS TO PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. I Chapter I—At Johnson'* Mews, * slum In London, Philip Anson, a well reared boy ct about fifteen, loses his mother, the only illative, so far ua he knows, that ho 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. H—During a great storm 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 Isaacstein & Co., London's largest dealers in diamonds. IV —Isaacstein is astounded by the gems Philip shows him and has the boy arrested. V—lsaacstein 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 sends to Johnson's Mews to inquire about him. She learns nothing. Philip is dismissed from custody. Vll—Philip agrees to supply Isaacstein 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, he 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 Jonnson's Mews. X. XI and Xll—lsaacstein 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, XIV —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. Greniers companion was a nephew of Grenier. His name is Langdon. XVll—Philip receives a letter telling him that Sir Philip Morland is dying and begging him to come. A man calling himself ‘T>r. 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 and Langdon. Philip is struck violently on the head by Mason and is supposed to be dead. His 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 get hold of his money for the gang. XIX and XX—Mason meets his sons, who he is informed by them, have been nicely brought up In the Mary Anscn home and owe everything to Philip Anson. Mason is filled with remorse. XXI— When Philip was thrown into the sea from the cliff he was not killed and was rescued by some fishermen.

CHAPTER XXII. THE one man stood, the other sat, gazing at each other in a silence that was thrilling. Dr. Scarth and the hotel man* ager entered noiselessly and closed the door behind them. Grenier, adroit scoundrel that he was, was bereft of speech, of the power to move. He harbored no delusions. This was no ghost coming to trouble his soul in broad daylight. It was Philip Anson himself, alive and in full possession of his senses, a more terrible apparition than any visitor from beyond the grave. His presence in that room meant penal servitude for life for Victor Grenier, a prison cell instead of palatial chambers, bread and skilly In place of Carlton luncheons. No wonder the scoundrel was dumb, that his tongue was dry. He went cold all over, and his eyes swam. Philip advanced toward him. Grenier could not move. He was glued to his chair. “Who are you?” said Anson sternly. No answer. As yet the acute brain refused to work. Ix>st—ruined—no escape—were the vague ideas that jostled each other in chaos. "Can you not speak? Who are you that dares to usurp my name after striving to murder me?” No answer. The shifty eyes—the eyes of a detected pickpocket—wandered stupidly from Philip’s set face to that of the perplexed hotel manager •nd the gravely hmused doctor. Philip never used strong language, but be was greatly tempted at that moment. “Confound you!” he shouted. "Why don’t you answer me?” "I—my name is Philip Anson. The manager—the—bank.” As a -spent fox will vainly try the last despairing device of climbing a tree in full sight of the hounds, so did Victor Grenier evolve the desperate scheme that perhaps perhaps —he might carry out a feeble pretense of self assertion. t If only he could get away into the crowded station, into the streets, slink into obscurity while the chase swept past, he might yet endeavor to escape. "You Philip Anson! You vile impostor! I am sorely inclined to wriug your neck!” Philip came nearer. In sheer fright Jest the other might give effect to bls words Grenier again backed his chair violently. It caught against a thick rug. and be fell headlong. For an instant they all thought he had hurt bimself seriously. The doctor and manager ran to pick him up, but he rose to his knees and whined: “I will tell everything. I mean,, there is some mistake. Look at my letters, my bank books. They are Philip Anson's. Indeed, there is a mistake." On the table were many documents and a pile of bank notes. Everything was in order, neatly pinned and docketed. A number of telegrams, of which the topmost was signed "Brelyn,” caught Philip’s eye. He took them up. Not only were his betrothed’s messages preserved, but copies of Cromer's replies were Inserted in their "roper sequence.

And Evelyn’s letters, too, lay before him. He flushed with anger as be read. "Oh," be cried In a sudden blaze, "if I talk with this scoundrel I shall do him an Injury. Send for the police. They will know how to deal with him.” The mere mention of the police galvanized Grenier Into the activity of a wildcat. He bad risen to bls feet and was standing limply tietween the doctor and manager when that bated word electrified him. With one spring be was free of them, rushing frantically to the door. Arter him went all three, the manager lead ing Grenier tore the door open and got outside. It was a hopeless attempt. He would be stopped by hotel porters at the foot of the stairs by the manager’s loud voiced order. Yet he raced ror dear lllierty, trusting blindly to fate. And fate met him more than halfway A tall man coming upstairs with a page boy encountered Grenier flying downward. He grabbed him in a clutch of Iron and cried sardonically: “No, you don’t! A word with me first if the devil was at your heels!” Intent on bls prize, he paid no heed to others.

“Which Is his room?” he said to the boy. “No. 41, sir,” stammered the youngster. who thought that millionaires should be treated with more ceremony than this wolf eyed stranger bestowed on the great Mr. Anson. “Go on, then! I’ll bring him!” “It is Jocky Mason,” murmured Philip to Dr. Scarth. With the manager they bad baited in the corridor. Mason strode past them, with eyes only for the cowering Grenier, who was making piteous appeals to be set free. Ths stronger ruffian threw bis confederate into room 41 and was about to close the door when he saw Philip, close behind him. He stepped back a pace, mute, rigid, seeking with glaring eyes to learn whether or not he was the victim of Philip knew him instantly. The voice he heard on the stairs, the policeman’s rough but accurate picture, the recollection of the captive of Johnson's Mews, all combined to tell him that in truth Jocky Mason stood before him. More than that, the would be murderer handled bls accomplice in a way that promised interesting developments. Now. perchance, the truth might be ascertained. Escape was out

•f the question for either of them. The manager’s cry had brought four strong porters pellmell to the spot “You and I will enter,” said Anson to Dr. Scarth. “You,” to the manager, “might kindly remain here with your men for a few minutes.” “Shall I summon the police?” “Not yet I want to clear matters somewhat. They are dreadfully tangled.” Mason, si>ellbound, but fearless as ever, heard the dead man speak, saw him move. He could not refuse the evidence of eyes and ears. As Philip advanced into the room the giant put his hands wildly to his bead and sobbed brokenly: “Thank God! Thank God! For my boys’ sake, not for mine!” His extraordinary attitude, his no less extraordinary words, amazed at least two of his hearers. Grenier, rendered callous now by sheer hopelessness, was pouring out some brandy and lighting g cigarette. The revulsion of feeling at the sight of Mason had calmed him. He would make the most of the few minutes that were left before he was handcuffed.

Dr. Scarth took the precaution of locking the door and putting the key into his pocket It is doubtful if he would have done this had he known Mason’s viojent character. But unknown to Phfilp, he carried a revolver, which he whipped forth when Grenier bolted and as rapidly concealed when It was not needed. _____ “You did not kill me, you, see,” said Philip, sinking into a chairffor the excitement was beginning to tell on him. The big man slowly dropped bis hands. His prominent eyes seemed to be fascinated by the sight of one whom he threxfc apparently lifeless into the sea. “I could lick your boots,” he said thickly. The queer idea sounded ludicrous. Yet it conveyed a good deal. It smacked of remorse, repentance. “Tell me,” began Philip, but • loud knocking without interrupted him. -4« Who is there?” said Dr. Scarth. "Abingdon. I want to see Mr. Anson,” was the reply in a voice that Philip hailed joyfully. Mr. Abingdon was admitted. His astonishment was extreme at the nature of the gathering, but he instantly noticed Philip's wan appearance and the bandage on his head. “My dear, dear boy,” he cried, “what has happened?” Philip told him briefly. As the exmagistrate’s glance rested on Mason and Grenier it became very chilly. It brought Portland prison near to the soul of one of them. He poured out more spirit. The respite given by Mr. Abingdon’s arrival gave Mason time to focus his

thoughts. The man had lived in an Inferno since he slipped away from his ■ons that morning on a plea of urgeht business in order to catch a fast train for York In the afternoon. He knew that Grenier would make the Station hotel his beadquarters, and his sole desire was to stop that enterprising rogue from committing further crimes which might be damaging to Anson’s estate and disastrous to the peace of mind of the girl he loved. In no way did he bold Grenier responsible for urging him to commit murder. The journey to York was undertaken In the first place to save Philip’s memory from the slur which was intended to tie cast upon It and secondly to afford a plausible pretext for a platform accident whereby bta own life should be dashed out of him by an engine. He would stumble over a barrow, fall helplessly in front of an Incoming train and end his career far from London, far from inquiry and published reports which might be injurious to his sons. It might perhaps be necessary to use forcible means to persuade Grenier to abandon bis tactics. They would be foncoming. He gave earnest of that on the stairs. Of course the discovery that Philip lived gave a fresh direction to bls purpose. A great load of guilt was lifted off bls conscience, but the position remained little less serious personally.

So when at last he began to tel) his story there was a brutal directness, a rough eloquence, that silenced all questioning. At first his hearers thought be was rambling and Incoherent as he described his release from Jail, his visit to the Mary Anson home, his long and fruitless search for the lost boys. He told of his meeting with Grenier, the espionage they both practiced on Anson’s movements and the plot hatched with Langdon, whose relationship with Sir Philip and Lady Morland now first became known to Philip. He was quite fair to Grenier, giving him fuD credit for having stopped him more than once from murdering Philip when opportunities presented themselves. He dealt ruthlessly with scene in the Grange House, even smiling dreadfully as he described Grenier’s squeamishness over the suggestion that Philip's face should be battered into a shapeless mass. Then followed bis journey to London, the meeting with his two sons at Southwark police station and the torturing knowledge, coming too late, that be bad slain the benefactor of his wife and children.

There was an overwhelming pathos in his recital of the boy*;’ kindness to him. He gave a lurid picture of his feelings during the previous night a he listened to their praises of Philip Anson and their pleasant plans for their father’s future. Ho only winced once, and that was at the remembrance of the parting a few hours ago. And he finished by a pitiful appeal for mercy, not for himself, but for Grenier. “I put the whole thing into his mind, Mr. Anson,” he said. “He would never have thought of robbing you but for me. Let him goj.make him leave the country. He will never trouble yon again. As for me, when I go from this room I walk to my death. You can’t stop me. 1 will not lay hands on you, I promise, but not all the men in waiting there outside can hold me back. In five minutes or less I will be dead. It will be an accident No-one will bo the wiser, and my boys will be spared the knowledge that their father tried to kill the man to whom they owe everything.” Scott Bros, have a fine line of single and double driving harness. Make your selection while the stock is full. . .Tested Hungarian Seed for Sale— Anyone wanting good seed, call on ALF DONNELLY, 'Phone 511-A. Rensselaer, Ind. If you want the best hay rake the International Harvester Company makes, call on C. A. Roberts. It’s the McCormick.