Part 38 (1/2)

”So ends the case of the Wardour diamonds. I shall not take it up again.”

”What! do you really mean that?”

”I really do.”

The detective opened his lips, as if about to remonstrate, then closed them suddenly, and moved toward the door.

”Do you still cling to your intention of notifying the town authorities, and setting them upon Doctor Heath?” she asked.

He turned toward her, with a peculiar smile upon his face.

”You have offered a reward for your jewels, I believe?”

”You mistake, I have offered a reward for the apprehension of the thief or thieves.”

”And--as you have withdrawn the case, shall you withdraw your reward also?”

”By no means.”

”Then--if I bring you both the jewels and the thieves my reward should be doubled?”

A queer gleam shot from her eyes, as she answered, without hesitation:

”And so I shall. Place my robbers in the county jail, and put my diamonds in my hands, and you shall receive a double reward.”

”Then, for the present, I shall keep my clews in my own hands; Miss Wardour, I wish you good morning.” And the private detective stalked from the room with the air of a man who was overflowing with desirable information.

”That's a queer woman,” mused Mr. Belknap, as he turned his face away from Wardour. ”I can't make her out. If it were not altogether too fishy, I should say she had a suspicion concerning those diamonds. I intend to look a little closer into the doings of Miss Wardour; and, blow hot, or blow cold, I'm bound to have my reward, if not by this, why by that.”

With this enigmatical reflection, he looked up to behold, sitting by the roadside, a tramp of sinister aspect, who turned his head indolently as the detective approached, and then applied himself closer to a luncheon of broken victuals, eating like a man famished. Mr. Belknap, who, on this occasion, had visited Wardour on foot, came quite close upon the man, and then halted suddenly, putting his hand in his pocket, as if with charitable intent; instantly the tramp dropped his fragment of bread, and sprang to his feet, with outstretched hands, as if greedy for the expected bounty. He was a dirty, ragged fellow, undersized, but strong and sinewy, with an ugly scarred face, and a boorish gait and manner. As the private detective withdrew his hand from his pocket and tendered the tramp a small coin, a pa.s.ser-by, had there been such, would have called the scene a tableaux of alms-giving; but what the detective said was:

”Well, Roake, here you are; are you ready for business?”

[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Well, Roarke, are you ready for business?”]

And the tramp replied: ”You bet, if it's a solid racket.”

”Then follow me, at a distance, until we reach a place where we can talk things over.” And Mr. Belknap moved on, never once glancing back.

The tramp once more seated himself beside the fence, and resumed his occupation. When the last sc.r.a.p of food was devoured, he arose, and, taking up a rough stick that served as a cane, he followed the receding form of the private detective.

At sunset, Ray Vandyck presented himself punctually for further instructions, at Wardour.

”You are released, Ray,” said Constance, coming to meet him, with a bright face and a warm hand-clasp. ”You are free to follow your own devices; Doctor Heath has a better guardian than either you or I.”

”Cool, upon my word,” said Ray, with a grimace. ”So I am discharged without references?”

”Even so, and you must be content without an explanation, too, for the present. My tongue is still tied.”