CHAPTER XIV

Once more the Traynor residence was filled with the sounds of mirth and

revelry.

From cellar to attic the old mansion was ablaze with light. The large

dining-room, decorated with flowers and plants, wore a festive air, and

the long table in the center literally groaned under its burden of fine

linen, crystal, and silver.

The dinner, now drawing to a close, had been a huge success in every

way, and, with the serving of the _demi-tasse_, the guests sat back in

their chairs, feeling that sense of gluttony satisfied which only a

perfect dinner can impart. The rarest wines, the richest foods--Helen

had spared no expense to make the affair worthy the occasion.

As Mr. Parker sat back and with deliberation lit the big black Corona,

which his host had given him, he felt as much at ease as can a man who

has dined well and knows that his affairs are prospering beyond all

expectations, and, as his eyes half closed, he listened dreamily while

his host, for the hundredth time, told yarns of the diamond fields, he

silently congratulated himself on his astuteness in having employed so

successful a messenger. He had not yet had an opportunity to ask any

questions about the diamonds. He had his own reasons for not wanting

those present to learn too much of his plans. There would be plenty of

time when he could get the vice-president alone. So he just sat back

and puffed his cigar, while around him went on the hum of conversation,

punctuated here and there with bursts of laughter.

Considering his short stay at the diamond mines it was astonishing how

well stocked their host was with stories. To hear him talk one might

have thought he had been a miner all his life. Stimulated by copious

draughts of champagne, which he contrived to make flow like water, he

was highly interesting, and his listeners, greatly interested, hung on

to every word.

"It must be a terrible life!" said Steell, as he lit another cigar.

The host emptied his glass and again refilled it before he answered:

"It's a life of a dog--not of a human being. The toil is incessant,

the profit doubtful. You starve to death: good food is unprocurable

save at prohibitive prices. One sleeps practically in the open, save

for such rude shelter as each man can make for himself. The flies are

a pest and constant source of danger. The water is abominable."

"You like champagne better, eh?" laughed Ray.

The gambler had already drunk more than was good for him, and, raising

his glass in a mock toast, began to hum the first lines of a familiar

camp ditty:

"_La femme qui sait me plaire

C'est la petite veuve Clicquot._"

"Is there much stealing of diamonds by the miners?" demanded Mr. Parker.

Handsome nodded.

"Lots of it. They have to watch 'em all the time. They resort to all

kinds of tricks to conceal stones they find. They used to swallow

them, but when they were forced to take powerful emetics and other

drugs, they soon got tired of that game. They also try to smuggle them

across the border line. One detective, who had been for months on the

trail of a well-to-do smuggler, was badly stung. The man invited him

to go shooting, and kindly furnished guns and cartridges. The

unsuspecting policeman carried the cartridges across the border, never

dreaming that each one was filled with diamonds."

Ray clapped her hands.

"Oh, what a clever idea!"

The host nodded approvingly.

"That's what I thought. Any man as smart as that deserved to get away

with it."

Mr. Parker protested.

"Rogues are always smart!" he exclaimed.

"Until they're caught," laughed Dick Reynolds. "Then they don't think

they're so smart."

Mr. Steell nodded approval.

"I know something about that," said the lawyer. "A crook is never

really clever. He always leaves some loophole which leads to

detection. He thinks he is secure, that his disguise is impenetrable,

but there is always someone watching him, closely observing his every

move. And, the first thing he knows, he has walked into a trap, the

handcuffs are snapped, and the electric chair looms grimly before

him----"

_Crash_!

All looked up to the end of the table, where their host had broken a

glass. In the act of raising the champagne to his lips the glass had

slipped and broken into a thousand pieces. Helen, frightened, started

from her seat.

"Are you hurt, dear?" she asked. "There is blood on your hand."

"No--no, it's nothing. I cut myself with a bit of glass. It's

nothing."

Ray was eager for more anecdotes.

"Do tell us more, Kenneth," she exclaimed, interrupting her chat with

her left-hand neighbor.

"Give him a breathing spell," laughed Dick. "We've kept him at it ever

since the dinner began."

Handsome, his face pale, his hand trembling, filled another glass with

the foaming golden wine, and drained it at a draught. What the lawyer

just said had been somewhat of a shock. Was there more meaning in it

than appeared in the chance words? He eyed Steell narrowly, when he

was not looking, but the lawyer's face was inscrutable. Again he

filled his glass and again emptied it.

That her husband had been drinking heavily all evening had not escaped

Helen's attention, and it worried her. Nudging her sister she

whispered:

"Ken's drinking more than is good for him. He never used to drink like

that."

At that moment, the host looked up and caught Helen's eye. Raising his

glass he offered a toast:

"Here's to the prettiest, the sweetest, the most desirable little woman

in the world! Gentlemen and ladies--my wife!"

They all drank except Helen who, confused and annoyed, tried to turn it

off with a laugh.

Noticing her embarrassment, Ray made a signal to Mr. Steell and they

both rose from the table. Helen and Dick quickly followed their

example and the hostess led the way into the drawing-room, leaving

Handsome and Mr. Parker alone to their cigars.

The president of the Americo-African Mining Company was not sorry of

the opportunity which this tête-à-tête afforded for a quiet business

talk.

"By the way, old man," he began, "we haven't had a chance to talk

business yet. You've got the diamonds, of course."

His host was silent. Mr. Parker thought he had not heard. A little

louder he repeated:

"You've got the diamonds?"

Still no answer. The president began to get uneasy. Could anything be

wrong or was his friend drunk? He had noticed that he had been

drinking heavily--something he had never known Kenneth Traynor do.

With some impatience he said sharply: "What's the matter, Kenneth?

Wake up, old man. I asked you a question. Can't you answer?"

Handsome brought his fist down on the table with a bang that made the

glasses dance.

"D---- it!" he exclaimed angrily. "Can't a man be left alone in his

own house for a few minutes without bothering him with business?"

This outburst was so utterly unexpected that Mr. Parker, taken entirely

by surprise, fell back in his chair and stared at his host in

amazement. Never before had he known his old friend and partner to act

in this strange way. Could anything be amiss? Now he came to think of

it, he had noticed a great change in his associate directly he saw him.

He had seemed to lack his customary cordiality and frankness. He

appeared moody and morose, as if he had on his mind some weighty

responsibility he was unwilling to share. Evidently there was nothing

to be gained by displaying impatience, so, in more conciliatory tones,

he asked:

"That's all right, my boy. If you don't care to talk shop to-night, we

won't. I didn't want to hurry you. I was curious, that's all. I have

scarcely been able to curb my impatience. You understand what it means

to us. Why, the very announcement that we have the diamonds safe here

in New York, will be enough to send the company's stock up twenty

points." Lowering his voice and bending over he added confidentially:

"I don't mind telling you that I've been buying for my own account all

the cheap stock I could put my hands on. As to the stockholders,

they're simply wild with impatience to see the big stones. But we

won't talk any more about it to-night. We'll wait till to-morrow."

Handsome, his face almost livid, leaned over the table. Hoarsely, he

replied:

"It's no use waiting till to-morrow. All that's to be told can be told

now. I haven't got the diamonds!"

For a moment Mr. Parker did not realize what the other man was saying.

Thinking he had not heard right he asked:

"What did you say?"

"I have not got the diamonds!"

The president started from his seat. His face pale as death, his hand

shaking as stricken with palsy, he almost shouted:

"You have not got the diamonds! Then where in God's name are they?"

"At the bottom of the ocean!"

The senior partner dropped back in his chair, white as death. Then

this was the outcome of all his hopes, all his planning. Faintly he

gasped:

"Why didn't you tell me so before?"

"I had no opportunity. I didn't want to cable such news. It might

have caused a slump in the shares. I could not let you know before.

This is the first time I've seen you alone."

The president said no more. The lines about his mouth tightened and

the expression of his face underwent a change. He uttered not a word,

but just sat there, his eyes fixed steadily on his companion, who

continued to fill his glass with champagne. Cornelius Winthrop Parker

was not a man to be easily deceived. He had too much experience of the

world for that. All his life he had been reading men and what he heard

now in the tone of his host's voice convinced him that he was lying.

That, in itself, was sufficient of a shock. To find Kenneth

Traynor--the soul of integrity and honor--deliberately betraying a

trust of such importance hurt him almost as much as the loss of the

gems. That they had gone down with the _Abyssinia_ he did not for a

moment believe. It was more likely that they had been sold--possibly

to make good Wall Street losses. Talk of big stock deals in which

Traynor had been mixed up had reached his ear before today, and more

recently this gossip had become more insistent. Kenneth was

interested, said rumor, in pool operations involving millions. The

recent sudden slump had found him unprepared. Ruin threatened him and

to save himself he had succumbed to temptation. This, at least, was

the theory which the President's alert brain rapidly evolved as he sat

watching the man in front of him. Perhaps all was not yet lost. If

the stones had not yet been disposed of, an effort might still be made

to recover them and at the same time save Traynor and his young wife

from the disgrace that such a grave scandal would entail. The first

thing necessary was to keep cool, show no concern and disarm suspicion

by pretending to accept the loss as irreparable. Then, at the first

opportunity, he would take Wilbur Steell into his confidence. That

wide awake lawyer would know exactly how to handle the case. Dick

Reynolds would have an opportunity to show his talent as a detective.

Breaking the long silence he said calmly:

"Of course, I understand your silence. I think you acted wisely. We

had better keep the loss to ourselves as long as we can. No one can

attach any blame to you. It is a terrible loss, but we must face it

like men."

The gambler looked up quickly, and eyed his guest narrowly. Seeing

nothing on the latter's face to arouse his suspicions, he grew more

cheerful. Less sullen and defiant, he extended his hand.

"Thanks, old man!" he exclaimed heartily. "I expected no less from

you. I can't tell you how badly I feel about the loss. No doubt my

manner has seemed strange since my return. I have been irritable with

everybody--even my dear wife has noticed it. It was only because I did

not know how to make a clear breast of it. Since you take it so

sensibly, I'll cheer up. I declare I feel like a new man already."

Mr. Parker lit another cigar. Calmly, he said:

"That's right, Kenneth my boy. Keep a stiff upper lip. All's for the

best. We'll have better luck next time."

As he spoke, Wilbur Steell passed on his way to join the ladies in the

drawing-room. The president called out to him:

"Hello, Steell. What are you so busy about? Entertaining the women,

eh? Always thought you were a lady killer. Suppose you come and smoke

a cigar with me and let our friend here go and have a chat with his

wife. You've no right to monopolize the fair sex in that fashion, even

if you are a trust lawyer. Anyhow, I want to talk to you--just a

little matter of business--that's all!"

Steell laughed, and, dropping into a chair, took the cigar which Mr.

Parker held out. Turning to his host, and clapping him genially on the

back the president exclaimed:

"Go and talk to your wife, old man. You've left her alone long enough."

"All right--I will," replied the gambler, not sorry of any excuse to

get away.

Mr. Parker waited till he was out of hearing, then, leaning quickly

over to his companion, he exclaimed in a tense whisper:

"Steell, I need your help."

The lawyer looked at him in surprise. Removing his cigar from his

mouth he said:

"My help? By all means. What can I do for you?"

Mr. Parker gave a quick glance behind him to see if they were observed,

and then he said:

"My God, Steell, something terrible has happened! At any cost, we

mustn't let the wife know----"

The lawyer stared at his companion in amazement.

"What is it, for Heaven's sake?" he demanded, looking anxiously at his

_vis-à-vis_.

"The diamonds are lost!" replied Parker hoarsely.

"The diamonds lost!"

"Yes--lost--he has returned without them. They went down in the

_Abyssinia_. At least, that's what he says----"

The lawyer started.

"You think----"

"I think nothing," replied the president cautiously. "I want to know.

That's why I want you to help me--to find out--you understand?"

The lawyer nodded:

"Some detective work, eh?"

"Precisely. The stones may have gone down to the bottom of the ocean,

or they may not. For all we know the ship may have been set on fire

purposely, in order to create such a panic----"

The lawyer protested.

"Surely you don't think Kenneth----"

The president shook his head.

"I accuse nobody. I want to find out."

He was silent for a moment, and then after a pause he went on:

"I suppose you've heard, as well as everybody else, how Traynor has

been plunging in Wall Street recently."

The lawyer nodded. Hesitatingly he replied:

"Yes--I have. Unfortunately, the reports are true. Investigations I

have conducted privately on my own account have convinced me that

Kenneth has been a big plunger for some time. But as far as I know, he

has operated only within his means. I have often remonstrated with him

about the folly of it, but he enjoys the excitement of the speculation

game, and as long as he kept within bounds and gambled with his own

money I didn't see that anyone had any right to interfere."

"Ah, just so--as long as he operated with his own means and with his

own money. But suppose the market suddenly goes against such a man,

and he is face to face with a tremendous loss, possibly ruin, what does

such a man do nine times out of ten?"

"Blow his brains out."

"Yes--sometimes that, but often he succumbs to temptation, and takes

what isn't his----"

"Then you think that Kenneth----"

"I think nothing. I want to know. He has come back from Africa a

changed man. He is surly, morose, secretive. That man has something

on his conscience. We must find out what it is. It is up to you to

ferret it out. Set your detectives to work. The company will spend

the last cent in its treasury to find those stones. You must trail his

associates, find out where he goes. The diamonds are probably right

here in New York. Who first took Kenneth to Wall Street?"

"Signor Keralio----"

"Ah--always that fellow! Who is he?"

"An adventurer of the worst type. I have had him shadowed by one of my

men. He has a police record as a dangerous criminal of international

reputation."

"And Kenneth's valet--that fellow François."

"He was formerly in Keralio's employ."

The President rose. Extending his hand to the lawyer, he said:

"That's enough. I don't think the trail will be hard to pick up.

Spare no expense. Good night!"