Part 48 (1/2)

A dull, cheerless day in the early part of December was merging into a stormy night as the west-bound express over one of the transcontinental railways, swiftly winding its way along the tortuous course of a Rocky Mountain canyon, suddenly paused before the long, low depot of a typical western mining city. The arc lights swinging to and fro shed only a ghastly radiance through the dense fog, and grotesque shadows, dancing hither and thither to the vibratory motion of the lights, seemed trying to contest supremacy with the feeble rays.

The train had not come to a full stop when a man sprang lightly from one of the car platforms, and, pa.s.sing swiftly through the waiting crowd, concealed himself in the friendly shelter of the shadows, where he remained oblivious to the rain falling in spiteful dashes, while he scanned the hurrying crowd surging in various directions. Not one of the crowd observed him; not one escaped his observation. Soon his attention was riveted upon a tall man, closely m.u.f.fled in fur coat and cap, who descended from one of the rear coaches, and, after a quick, cautious glance about him, pa.s.sed the silent, motionless figure in the shadow and hastily entered a carriage standing near. The other, listening intently for the instructions given the driver, caught the words, ”545 Jefferson Street.”

As the carriage rolled away, he emerged from the shadow and jotted down the address in a small note-book, soliloquizing as he did so,--

”I have tracked him to his lair at last, and now, unless that infernal hoodoo looms upon the scene, I can get in my work in good shape. I would have had my game weeks ago, but for his appearance, confound him!”

He looked at his watch. ”Dinner first,” he muttered, ”the next thing in order is to find the alias under which my gentleman is at present travelling. No one seems to know much about him in these parts.”

The dim light revealed a man below medium height, his form enveloped in a heavy English mackintosh thrown carelessly about his shoulders, which, as he made his notes, blew partially open, revealing an immaculate s.h.i.+rt front and a brilliant diamond which scintillated and sparkled in open defiance of the surrounding gloom. A soft felt hat well pulled down concealed his eyes and the upper part of his face, leaving visible only a slightly aquiline nose and heavy, black mustache, which gave his face something of a Jewish cast. Replacing his note-book in his pocket, he called a belated carriage, and hastily gave orders to be taken to the Clifton House.

Arriving at the hotel, the stranger registered as ”A. Rosenbaum, Berlin,” and, having secured one of the best rooms the house afforded, repaired to the dining-room. Dinner over, Mr. Rosenbaum betook himself to a quiet corner of the office, which served also as a reading-room, and soon was apparently absorbed in a number of Eastern papers, both English and German, though a keen observer would have noted that the papers were occasionally lowered sufficiently to give the eyes--again concealed beneath the hat-brim--an opportunity for reconnoitering the situation. He was attired in a black suit of faultless fit, and a superb ruby on his left hand gleamed and glowed like living fire, rivalling in beauty the flas.h.i.+ng diamond. He speedily became the subject of considerable speculation among the various cla.s.ses of men congregating in the hotel office, most of them for an evening of social enjoyment, though a few seemed to have gathered there for the purpose of conducting business negotiations.

Among the latter, after a time, was the tall man in fur coat and cap, who appeared to be waiting for some one with whom he had an appointment, as he shunned the crowd, selecting a seat near Mr.

Rosenbaum as the most quiet place available. Having removed his cap and thrown back the high collar of his fur coat, he appeared to be a man of about fifty years of age, with iron-gray hair and a full, heavy beard of the same shade. He wore dark gla.s.ses, and, having seated himself with his back towards the light, drew forth from his pocket a number of voluminous type-written doc.u.ments, and became absorbed in a perusal of their contents.

Meanwhile, the proprietor of the Clifton House, feeling considerable curiosity regarding his new guest, sauntered over in his direction.

”Well, Mr. Rosenbaum,” he remarked, genially, ”you have hit on rather a stormy night for your introduction to our city, for I take it you are a stranger here, are you not?”

The soft hat was raised slightly, revealing a rather stolid, expressionless face, with dark eyes nearly concealed by long lashes.

”Not the most agreeable, certainly,” he answered, with an expressive shrug and a marked German accent, at the same time ignoring the other's question.

”Your first impressions are not likely to be very pleasant, but if you stop over a few days you will see we have a fine city. Do you remain here long?”

”I cannot say at present; depends entirely upon business, you understand.”

”I see. What's your line?”

For reply the stranger handed the other a small card, on which was engraved, ”Rosenbaum Brothers, Diamond Brokers, Berlin,” and bearing on one corner his own name, ”A. Rosenbaum.”

”Diamond brokers, eh? You don't say!” exclaimed the proprietor, regarding the bit of pasteboard with visible respect. ”Must be quite a business. You represent this firm, I suppose; you are their salesman?”

The stranger shook his head with a smile. ”We have no salesmen,” he answered, quietly. ”We have branch houses in Paris, London, and New York, but we employ no travelling salesmen. Any one can sell diamonds; my business is to buy them,” with marked emphasis on the last words.

”Well,” said his interlocutor, ”you're not looking for 'em out here, are you?”

”Why not here as well as anywhere? So far as my experience goes, it is nothing uncommon in this part of the country to run across owners of fine stones who, for one reason or another, are very glad to exchange the same for cash.”

”Yes, I suppose so. When a fellow gets down to bedrock, he'll put up most anything to make a raise.”

”There are many besides those who are down to bedrock, as you call it, who are glad to make an exchange of that kind,” said Mr.

Rosenbaum, speaking with deliberation and keeping an eye upon his neighbor in the fur coat; ”but their reasons, whatever they may be, do not concern us; our business is simply to buy the gems wherever we can find them and ask no questions.”

By this time a fourth man was approaching in their direction, evidently the individual for whom the man in the fur coat was waiting, and Mr. Rosenbaum, thinking it time to put an end to the conversation, rose and began to don his mackintosh.

”Surely you are not going out to-night!” said the proprietor; ”better stay indoors, and I'll make you acquainted with some of the boys.”

”Much obliged, but an important engagement compels me to forego that pleasure,” said Mr. Rosenbaum, and, bidding his host good-evening, he sallied forth, well aware that every word of their conversation had been overheard by their silent neighbor, notwithstanding the voluminous doc.u.ments which seemed to engross his attention.

Pa.s.sing out into the night, he found the storm fast abating.