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The
DIAMOND
CROSS
MYSTERY


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THE DIAMOND CROSS MYSTERY





THE
DIAMOND CROSS
MYSTERY
Being a Somewhat Different
Detective Story
By
CHESTER K. STEELE
Author of "The Mansion of Mystery,"
etc.

INTERNATIONAL FICTION LIBRARY
CLEVELAND
NEW YORK
Made in U. S. A.


PARVARLIK
COLLÈGE
LIBRARY
Copyright, 1918, by
GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY
All Rights Reserved
PRESS OF
THE COMMERCIAL BOOKBINDING CO.
CLEVELAND


CHAPTER
I
124
CONTENTS
PAGE
I. The Ticking Watch ...
II. King's Dagger .....
III. The Fisherman ...
IV. Spotty ............
V. Amy's Appeal ..........
VI. Gräfton's Search ..
VII. The Colonel is Surprised ... 113
VIII. The Diamond Cross ........
IX. Indicted ............... .... 135
X. The Death Watch
.... 143
XI. No Alimony.....
.... 152
XII. The Odd Coin ....
XIII. Singa Phut ......
181
XIV. The Hidden Wires
191
XV. A Dog ................
XVI. The Colonel Wonders ....
XVII. “A Jolly Good Fellow" ...
XVIII. Amy's Test ......
237
XIX. Word From Spotty ...
XX. In The Shadows .....
XXI. Swirling Waters ............... 269
XXII. His Last Case . ........... 285
165
.. 216
225
246
258
.





THE DIAMOND CROSS MYSTERY
CHAPTER I
THE TICKING WATCH
THERE was only one sound which broke the
intense stillness of the jewelry shop on that fate-
ful April morning. That sound was the ticking
of the watch in the hand of the dead woman.
Outside, the rain was falling. Not a heavy
downpour which splashed cheerfully on umbrellas
and formed swollen streams in the gutters, whence
they rushed toward the sewer basins, carrying with
them an accumulation of sticks, leaves and dirt.
Not a windy, gusty rain, that made a man glad to
get indoors near a genial fire, with his pipe and
a book.
It was a drizzle; a steady, persistent drizzle,
which a half-hearted wind blew this way and that,
as though neither element cared much for the
task in hand—that of thoroughly soaking the par-
ticular part of the universe in the neighborhood
of Colchester and taking its own time in which
to do it.


The Diamond Cross Mystery
Early in the unequal contest the sun had given
up its effort to pierce through the leaden clouds,
and had taken its beams to other places—to busy
cities, to smiling country villages and farms.
Above, around, below, on all sides, soaking
through and through, drizzling it, soaking it,
sprinkling it, half-hiding it in fog and mist, the
rain enveloped Colchester-a sodden, damp gar-
ment.
Early paper boys slunk along the slippery
streets, trying to protect their limp wares from
becoming mere blotters. The gongs of the few
trolley cars that were sent out to take the early
toilers to their tasks rang as though covered with
a blanket of fog. The thud of the feet of the
milkmen's horses was muffled, and the rattle of
bottles seemed to come from afar off, as though
over some misty lake.
James Darcy, shivering as he arose, silently
protesting, from his warm bed, pulled on his gar-
ments audibly grumbling, the grumble becoming
a voiced protest as he shuffled in his slippers
along the corridor above the jewelry shop and
went down the private stairs into the main sales-
room.
The electric light in front of the massive safe
seemed to lear at him with a bleared eye like
that of a toper, who, having spent the night in
convivial company, found himself, most unac-


The Ticking Watch
countably, on his own doorstep in the gray dawn.
"Raining!” murmured James Darcy, as he
reached over to switch on the light above the
little table where he set precious stones into gold
and platinum of rare and beautiful designs.
“Raining and cold! I wish the steam was on.”
The fog from outside seemed to have pene-
trated into the jewelry shop. It swirled about
the gleaming showcases, reflected from the cut
glass, danced away from the silver cups, broke
into points of light from the times of forks,
became broad splotches on the blades of knives,
and, perchance, made its way through the cracks
into the safe, where it bathed the diamonds, the
rubies, the sapphires, the aqua marines, the pearls,
the jades, and the bloodstones in a white mist.
The bloodstones,
Strange that James Darcy should have thought
of them as he looked at the rain outside, heard
its drip, drip, drip on the windows, and saw the
fog and swirls of mist inside and without the
store. Strange and
First, as he gazed at the prostrate body—the
horrid red blotch like a gay ribbon in the white
hair—he thought the small, insistent sound which
seemed to fill the room was the beating of her
heart. Then, as he listened, his ears attuned with
fear, he knew it was the ticking of the watch in
the hand of the dead woman.


4
The Diamond Cross Mystery
James Darcy rubbed his eyes, as though to
clear them from the fog. He rubbed them
again—he passed his hand before his face as if
cobwebs had drifted there-he touched his ears,
which seemed not a part of himself.
“Tick-tick! Tick-tick! Tick-tick!"
The sound seemed to grow louder. It was not
her heart!
"Hello! Come here, somebody! Amelia!
what's the matter? Sallie! Sallie Page! Wake
up! Hello, somebody! She's dead! Killed!
There's been a murder! I must get the police !"
James Darcy started to cross the room to reach
and Aling open the front door leading to the street,
that he might call the alarm to others than the deaf
cook, who had not yet come downstairs. Mrs.
Darcy's maid had gone away the previous evening,
and was not expected in until noon. It was too
early for any of the jewelry clerks to report.
Yet Darcy felt he must have some one with him.
To cross the store to reach the door meant
stepping over the body—the grotesquely twisted
body, with the white, upturned face and the
little spot of red, near where the silver comb
had fallen from the silvered hair. And so Darcy
changed his mind-he ran to the side door, fum-
bled with the lock, flung back the portal, and
then rushed out in the rain and drizzle, the fog
streaming after him as he parted the mist like


The Ticking Watch
long, white streamers of ribbon, such as they
suspend at the door for the very young or the
aged.
"Hello! Hello!” shouted Darcy into the silent
rain and mist of the early morning street, now
deserted save for himself.
The glistening asphalt, the gleaming trolley
rails, the dark and damp buildings seemed to echo
back his words.
"Hello! Hello!"
"Police!" voiced James Darcy. “There's been
a murder!"
"A murder!" echoed the mist.
There was silence after this, and Darcy looked
up and down the street. Not a person—not a
vehicle—was in sight. No one looked from the
stores or houses on either side or across from
the jewelry shop.
Then a rattling milk wagon swung around the
corner. It was followed by another.
“Hello! Hello! there—you!" called Darcy
hoarsely.
"What's the matter?” asked the first man, as he
swung down from his vehicle with a wire carrier
filled with bottles in his hand.
“Somebody's been hurt-killed—a relative of
mine! I want to tell the police. It's in that
jewelry store," and he pointed back toward it,
for he had run down the street a little way.


The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Oh, I see! Darcy's! She's killed you say?"
"I'm afraid so."
“Accident?”
"I don't know. Looks to me more like mur-
der!”
The milkman whistled, set his collection of
bottles back in his wagon, and hurried with Darcy
toward the store. The other man, bringing his
rattling vehicle to a stop, followed.
"Where is she?” whispered Casey, as soon as
he reached the side of his business rival, Trem-
lain.
“On the floor-right in the middle—between
the showcases,” answered Darcy, and he, too,
whispered. It seemed the right thing to do.
“There—see her!”
He pointed a-trembling finger.
"Lord! Her head's smashed !” exclaimed Casey.
“Look at the blood !”
"I—I don't want to look at it,” murmured
Darcy, faintly.
"Hark!” cautioned Tremlain. What's that
noise?"
They all listened—they all heard it.
"It's a watch ticking,” answered Darcy. "First
I thought it was her heart beating—it sounded so.
But it's only a watch.”
"Maybe so," assented Casey. "We'd better
make sure before we telephone for the police.


The Ticking Watch
She may only have fallen and cut her head.”
"You—you go and see," suggested Tremlain.
"I—I don't like to go near her-I never could
bear the sight of dead folks—not even my own
father. You look !"
Casey hesitated a moment, and then stepped
closer to the body. He leaned over it and put
the backs of his hard fingers on the white,
wrinkled and shrunken cheeks. They were cold
and wax-like to his touch.
"She's dead,” he whispered softly. "Better get
the police right away.”
"Murdered ?” asked Tremlain, who had re-
mained beside Darcy near the showcase where
the silver gleamed.
"I don't know. Her head's cut bad, though
there's not so much blood as I thought at first.
We mustn't touch the body—that's the law. Got
to leave it until the coroner sees it. Where's
the telephone?"
"Right back here," answered Darcy eagerly.
“Police headquarters number is "
"I know it," interrupted Casey. "I had to
call 'em up once when I had a horse stole. I'll
get 'em. What's that watch ticking ?” he asked,
pausing. "Oh, it's in her hand!” and the other
two looked and saw, clasped close in the palm
of the woman lying huddled on the floor, a watch
of uncommon design. It was ticking loudly,


The Diamond Cross Mystery
"What makes it sound so plain?” asked Trem-
lain.
“Cause it's so quiet in here," answered Casey.
"It'll be noisy enough later on, though! But it's
So quiet—that's what makes the ticking of the
watch sound so plain.”
"It is quiet,” observed Tremlain. “But in a
jewelry store there's always a lot of clocks mak-
ing a noise and—Say!” he suddenly cried, “there's
not a clock in this place ticking—notice that?
Not a clock ticking! They've all stopped !”
“You're right !” exclaimed Casey. "The watch
is the only thing going in the whole place !"
The milkmen looked quickly at Darcy.
“Yes, the clocks have all stopped,” he said,
wetting his lips with his tongue. "I didn't notice
it before, though I did hear the watch in her
hand ticking—I thought it was her heart beating
-I guess I said that before—I don't know what
I am saying. This has upset me frightfully."
"I should think it would,” agreed Casey.
"Funny thing about the clocks all stopping,
though. S’pose they all ran down at once?”.
"They couldn't," Darcy answered. “I wound
the regulator only yesterday," and he pointed to
the tall timepiece in the show window—the sol-
emn-ticking clock by which many passersby set
their watches. “The other clocks "
“And they've all stopped at different times !"
added Tremlain. “That's funny, too."


The Ticking Watch
9
If anything could be funny in that place of
death, this fact might be. And it was a fact.
Of the many clocks in the store not one was tick-
ing, and all pointed to different hours. The big
regulator indicated 10:22; a chronometer in a
showcase was five hours and some minutes ahead
of that. The clock over Darcy's work table noted
the hour of 7:56. Some cheaper clocks, alarms
among them, on the shelves, which were usually
going, showed various hours.
They had all stopped. Only the watch in the
dead woman's hand was ticking, and that showed
approximately the right time—a little after six
o'clock.
"Well, we've got to get the police,” said Casey.
“Then I've got to travel on—customers waiting
for me."
"You—you won't leave me here alone—will
you?” asked Darcy.
"Isn't there any one else in the house?” asked
Tremlain, for the living-rooms were above the
jewelry store-a substantial brown stone build-
ing of the style of three decades ago.
"Only Sallie Page, the cook. She's deaf, and
she'll be more of a nuisance than a help. Mrs.
Darcy's maid won't be in until noon. I don't
want to be left- "
“Oh, you won't be alone long,” observed Casey.
“The police will be here as soon as we send 'em
word. And here's a crowd outside already."


10
The Diamond Cross Mystery
There was one-made up of men and boys with,
here and there, a factory girl on her way to
work. They had seen the two milk wagons in
front of the jewelry store—the store which,
though most of the more valuable pieces were
in the safe-still showed in the gleaming win-
dows much that caught the eye of the passerby.
Some one sensed the unusual. Some one stopped
—then another. Some one had caught sight, on
peering into the store, of the prostrate figure with
that blotch of red in the white hair.
The crowd, increasing each minute, pressed
against the still locked front doors. Those in
the van flattened their noses against the glass in
grotesque fashion.
“Hurry and get the police !” begged Darcy.
Casey was about to telephone, when Tremlain,
who had gone out into the alley from the side
door, hurried back to report:
"Here comes a cop now. Saw the crowd I
guess. We can just tell him what we saw, Casey,
and then slide along. I'm late as it is."
“So'm I!”
The policeman, his heavy-soled shoes creaking
importantly, came along the street, hurrying not
in the least. He knew whatever it was would
keep for him.
"What's the row?” demanded Patrolman Mul-
ligan.


The Ticking Watch
11
“Looks like the old lady was murdered,” Casey
answered. “I was just going to telephone to head-
quarters.” He told briefly what he knew, which
was corroborated by Tremlain, then the two left
to cover their routes, after giving their addresses
to the policeman.
The crowd grew larger. From outside it
looked like a convention of umbrellas. The rain
still drizzled and turned to steam and mist as it
warmed on the many bodies in the throng-a
mist that mingled with that of the rain itself.
In spite of the storm, the crowd grew and re-
mained. Those who might be late at bench, lathe
or loom unheeded the passing of time. It was not
every day they could be so close to a murder.
The crowd filled the entire space in front of
the jewelry store. The bolder spirits rattled the
knob of the locked portals, and tapped on the
glass that was now misty and grimy from hands
and noses pressed against it. The crowd began
to surge into the alley, whence a side door gave
entrance into Mrs. Darcy's place. Some even
ventured to press into the store itself—the store
where the silent figure lay huddled between the
showcases.
"Now then slide out of here—take a wall: !"
advised Mulligan, as he shoved out some of the
men and boys who had entered. "Get out!
You can read all about it in the papers. The re-


12
The Diamond Cross Mystery
porters'll be here soon enough," he added with a
wink at Darcy. “I'll lock the door and keep the
crowd out. The sleuths can knock when they get
here. Where's your 'phone. I'll have to report
to the station."
Darcy pointed to the telephone, and the police-
man, showing no more than a passing interest in
the body, at which he glanced casually as he
passed, called up his precinct and reported, being
told to remain on guard until relieved.
“How'd it happen?” he asked, as he came back
from the instrument and leaned against a show-
case containing much glittering silver. “Who did
it-when-how?”.
"I haven't the least idea,” replied Darcy, turn-
ing away so as not to see the faces now pressed
against both the front and side doors, each being
locked from the inside. “I found her just as she
is now, and called in the milkmen, who happened
to be passing. I had come down to the store
early to do a little repair job, and the first thing
I saw was—her!”
"What time did it happen?"
"I don't even know that. All the clocks have
stopped. I don't usually wind the watches that
are left for repair, unless I'm regulating them,
and I haven't any like that in now. The only
thing going is that one watch.
“What one watch? I do hear something tick-


The Ticking Watch
13
ing," and the policeman looked at Darcy. “What
watch?"
"The one-in her hand.”
“Oh, I see! Hum! Well, we'll leave that for
the county physician. He'll be here pretty soon I
guess. They'll notify him from the precinct.
Now how about last night—was there any row-
any noise ? Did you hear anything?”.
"I didn't hear anything-much. There's al-
ways a lot of noise around here until after mid-
night-theaters and moving picture places let out
about 11:30. I awoke once in the night. But
I guess that doesn't matter."
“Anybody else in the house besides you?” and
the policeman yawned for he had gone out on
dog-watch-and looked into the wet, shiny, driz-
zle-swept street.
"Only Sallie Page, the cook. I'll call her.
There's Mrs. Darcy's maid-Jane Metson. But
she went away yesterday afternoon and won't be
back until about noon. It's past time Sallie was
down to get breakfast. I'll call her "
Darcy made a move as though to go to the
rear of the store, whence a side door gave en-
trance to the stairs leading to the rooms above.
"I'll go with you,” said Mulligan, and he
shoved himself to an erect posture by forcing his
elbows against the showcase on which he had
been leaning in a manner to give himself as much


14
The Diamond Cross Mystery
rest as possible without sitting down—it was a
way he had, acquired from long patrolling of city
streets.
"You—you'll go with me?” faltered Darcy.
“Yes, to call the cook. She won't run away,"
and he nodded toward the dead woman.
"Oh!" There was a world of meaning in
Darcy's interjection. “You mean that I,
“I don't mean nothin'!" broke in Mulligan.
"I leave that to the gum-shoe men. Come on,
if you want to call what's-her-name!"
It took some little time, by calling and pounding
outside her door, to arouse deaf Sallie Page, and
longer to make her understand that she was
wanted. Then, just as Darcy had expected, she
began to cry and moan when she heard her mis-
tress was dead, and refused to come from her
room. She had served the owner of the jewelry
store for more than a score of years.
"Hark!” exclaimed Mulligan, as he and Darcy
came downstairs after having roused Sallie Page.
“What's that?"
"Some one is knocking," remarked his com-
panion.
"Maybe it's the men from headquarters.”
It was—Carroll and Thong, who always teamed
it when there was a case of sufficient importance,
as this seemed to be. They were insistently
knocking at the side door, having forced their


The Ticking Watch
15
way through the crowd that was still there
larger than ever, maintaining positions in spite
of the dripping, driving, drizzling rain.
“Killed, eh?” murmured Carroll, as he bent
over the body.
"Gun?” asked Thong, who was making a quick
visual inventory of the interior of the place.
"No; doesn't seem so. Looks more like her
head's been busted in. Hit with something. Doc
Warren can ’tend to that end of it. Now let's
get down to business. Who found her this way?"
"I did,” answered Darcy.
"And who are you?”
"Her second cousin. Her name was Mrs.
Amelia Darcy, and her husband and my father
were first cousins. I have worked for her about
seven years—ever since just after her husband
died. She continued his business. It's one of the
oldest in the city and "
"Yes, I know all about that. Robbery here
once—before your time. We got back some of
the stuff for the old lady. She treated us pretty
decent, too. When'd you find her like this?”.
"About half an hour ago. I got up a little
before six o'clock to do some repair work on a
man's watch. He wanted to get the early train
out of town."
"I see! And you found the old lady like this?”
asked Carroll.


16
The Diamond Cross Mystery
LTO
"Just like this—yes. Then I called in the
milkmen-
“I saw them,” interrupted Mulligan. "I know
'em. They're all right, so I let 'em go. We can
get 'em after they finish their routes."
“Um," assented Thong. “Anything gone from
the store?” he asked Darcy.
"I haven't looked.”
"Better take a look around. It's probably a
robbery. You know the stock, don't you?”.
"As well as she did herself. I've been doing
the buying lately."
"Well, have a look. Who's that at the door?”
he asked sharply, for a knock as of authority
sounded-different from the aimless and impa-
tient kickings and tappings of the wet throng
outside.
"It's Daley from the Times," reported Mulli-
gan, peering out. He's all right. Shall I let
him in?"
"Oh, yes, I guess so," assented Carroll, with
a glance at Thong, who confirmed, by a nod of his
head, what his partner said. He'll give us what's
right. Let him in.”
The reporter entered, nodded to the detectives,
gave a short glance at the body, a longer one at
Darcy, poked Mulligan in the ribs, lighted a
cigarette, which he let hang from one lip where
it gyrated in eccentric circles as he mumbled:


The Ticking Watch
17
“What's the dope?"
"Don't know yet,” answered Carroll. “The
old lady's dead-murdered it looks like-
and— ”
"What's that?" interrupted Thong. “What's
that ticking sound?”
"It's the watch—in her hand," replied Darcy,
and his voice was a hoarse whisper,


CHAPTER II
KING'S DAGGER
CARROLL and Thong, proceeding along the
lines they usually followed in cases like this,
keeping to the rules which had come to them
through the instructions of superior officers, and
some which they had worked out for themselves,
had, in a comparatively short time, ascertained
the name, age and somewhat of the personal
history of Mrs. Amelia Darcy, together with that
of her cousin, as the detectives called him, though
the relationship was not as close as that.
Mrs. Darcy, who was sixty-five years of age,
had carried on the jewelry business of her hus-
band, Mortimer Darcy, after his death, which pre-
ceded her more tragic one by about seven years.
Mortimer Darcy had been a diamond salesman
for a large New York house in his younger days,
and had come to be an expert in precious stones.
Many good wishes, and not a little trade, had
gone to him from his former employers, and
some of their customers bought of him when
he went into business for himself in the thriving
city of Colchester.


King's Dagger
19
Knowing that to start anew in a strange town
would mean uphill work for him and his wife,
Mortimer Darcy had awaited an opportunity to
buy the business of a man whom he had known
for a number of years and to whom he had sold
many diamonds and other stones. This man-
Harrison Van Doren by name—had what was
termed the best jewelry trade in Colchester. The
"old" families—not that any of them could trace
their ancestry back very far-liked to say that
"we get all our stuff at Van Doren's.”
This name, on little white plush-lined boxes,
containing pins or sparkling rings, came to mean
almost as much as some of the more expensive
names in New York. Young ladies counted it a
point in the favor of their lovers if the engage-
ment circlet came from Van Doren's. And Mor-
timer Darcy, knowing the value of that class of
trade, had, when he purchased Mr. Van Doren's
business fostered that spirit. Mrs. Darcy, on
the death of her husband, had further catered to
it, so that the Darcy establishment, though it was
not the richest or most showy in Colchester, was
safely counted the most exclusive that is, it
had a full line of the best goods, be it clocks or
diamonds, and it had what, in bygone days, was
called a "carriage trade," but which is now re-
ferred to as "automobile."
That is to say, those, aside from a casual trade


20
The Diamond Cross Mystery
with people who dropped in as they might have
done to a grocery, to get what they really needed
in the way of jewelry, came in gasolene or electric
cars where their ancestors had come with horses
and carriage.
So Darcy's jewelry store was known, and
though a bit old-fashioned in a way, was favor-
ably known, not only to the older members of the
rich families of the place, but to the younger set
as well. The pretty girls and their well-groomed
companions of the “Assembly Ball” set liked to
stop in there for their rings, brooches, scarfpins
or cuff links, and very frequent were the rather
languid orders:
“You may send it, charge.”
It was to that class of trade that Mrs. Darcy
catered. She understood it, and it understood her.
That was enough. She took a personal interest
in the business to the extent of being in the store
almost every day, as her husband had been before
her, to advise and be available for consultation,
whether it was the buying of a gold teething
ring for the newest member of the family, an
engagement ring for the latest debutante, a watch
for "son,” attaining his majority, or perhaps new
gold glasses for grandpapa or grandmama.
The store was not a large one, and four clerks,
one a young woman, with James Darcy and an
assistant, who looked after the repair work and


King's Dagger
48ger
21
made anything unusual in the way of pins or
rings, constituted the force. But Mrs. Darcy was
as good as a clerk herself, and during the holiday
rush she was in the store night and day. This
was the easier for her, since she owned the build-
ing in which her display was kept, and lived in
a quiet and tastefully furnished apartment over
the store.
On the death of her husband, she had sent
for his second cousin, who at that time was in the
employ of a well-known New York jewelry house,
and he agreed to come to her.
Rather more than a repair man and clerk was
James Darcy. He was an expert jewelry designer
and a setter of precious stones; and often, when
some fastidious customer did not seem to care
for what was shown from the glittering trays in
the showcases, Mrs. Darcy or one of her clerks
would say:
"We will have Mr. Darcy design something
different for you."
"That's what I want," the customer would
say—"something different-something you don't
see everywhere."
And so the Darcy trade had grown and pros-
pered.
"Well, let's hear what you have to say,” said
Carroll, after James Darcy had given what the
detectives considered was, for the time, a suf-


22
The Diamond Cross Mystery
ficient history of himself and his relative, and
had hastily gone over such of the stock as was
kept outside the safe. The latter had not been
forced open-it did not take long to ascertain
that. “Is anything gone?”.
“I can't say for sure," answered the young
man-he was this side of thirty. His long, artis-
tic fingers were trembling, and he felt weak and
faint. “But if there has been a robbery they
didn't get much. The safe hasn't been opened,
and the best of the goods—all the diamonds and
other stones—are in that. Nothing seems to be
gone from the cases, though I'd have to make a
better search, and go over the inventory, to make
certain."
"Well, let that go for the time. How'd you
find things when you came downstairs? What
happened during the night? Any of the doors
or windows forced ?” and the detective fairly shot
these questions at Darcy.
"I think not. The front door was locked, just
as it is now. I went out the side one. That was
locked with the spring catch from the inside.”
“Wasn't it bolted ?" came sharply from Thong.
"I didn't notice about that. You see, I was
all excited like "
“Yes," assented Thong.
“There's a bolt on the door!" Carroll snapped.
“Yes, but Mrs. Darcy may have slipped it back


King's Dagger
23
herself. She was down first, though why, I can't
say. She seldom came down ahead of me, es-
pecially of late years. I generally opened the
store. The clerks report at eighty-thirty—there's
some of 'em now."
More knockings had sounded on the front door,
and the faces of two young men peered in through
the misty glass, the crowd having made a lane
for them on learning that they worked in the place
of death.
"Let 'em in, sure!” assented Thong. “We got
to talk to all of 'em! Let 'em in!"
Darcy did so, Mulligan helping him keep back
the crowd of curious ones.
"Here comes Miss Brill,” said one of the men
clerks to Darcy. “What's the matter? Is Mrs.
Darcy—?”
"Dead! Killed, I'm afraid! The store won't
open to-day, but the police want to see every one.
Oh, Miss Brill, come in!" and he held out his
hand to the one young woman clerk, who drew
back in horrified fright as she saw the silent
figure on the floor.
"Oh-Oh!" she gasped, and then she went
into hysterics, adding to the excitement and
giving Mulligan a bad five minutes while he
fought to keep the crowd from surging in.
But when Miss Brill had been carried to a
rear room and quieted, and when the shades had


24
10
The Diamond Cross Mystery
been drawn to keep the curious ones from peering
in, the questioning of Darcy was resumed.
"Did you come directly down to the store from
your room?" asked Thong.
“Yes. As soon as I awakened.”
“Where is your room?"
“In the rear, on the second floor-the one
next above. Mrs. Darcy has her rooms in front.
Then come those of her maid, Jane Metson.
Sallie Page sleeps on the top floor where the
janitor's family lives, and he, of course, sleeps
up there also.”
"I see," murmured Carroll. “Then you came
downstairs and found Mrs. Darcy lying here-
dead?”
"I wasn't sure she was dead—”.
"Oh, she was dead all right,” broke in Thong.
“No question about that. Did you hear any-
thing?"
"Only the watch ticking in her hand. First I
thought it was her heart beating.”
“No, I mean did you hear anything in the
night?“ went on the detective. “Any queer
noise ? It's mighty funny if there was murder
done and no robbery. But of course she might
have heard a noise if you didn't, and she might
have come down to find out what it was about..
She might have caught a burglar at work, and
he may have killed her to get away. But if it


King's Dagger
25
was a burglar it's funny you didn't hear any
noise like a fall, or something. How about that,
Mr. Darcy?”
"Well, no. I didn't exactly hear anything. I
went to bed about half past ten, after working at
my table down here awhile.”
"Was Mrs. Darcy in bed then?” Thong asked.
"I couldn't say. She had gone to her apart-
ment, but I don't have to pass near that to get
to my room. I came straight up and went to
bed.”
“At ten o'clock, you say?"
“A little after. It may have been a quarter to
eleven.”
“And you didn't hear anything all night?”
Carroll shot this question at Darcy suddenly.
“No-no—not exactly. I did hear something-
it wasn't exactly a noise—and yet it was a noise.”
“What kind of talk is that?” demanded Thong
roughly. “Either it was a noise or it wasn't!
Now which was it?”
"Well, if you call a clock striking a noise, then
it was one.”
“Oh, a clock struck!" and Thong settled back
in his chair more at his ease. His manner seemed
to indicate that he was on the track of something.
“Yes, a clock struck. It was either three or
four, I can't be sure which,” Darcy replied. "You
know when you awaken in the night, and hear


26
The Diamond Cross Mystery
the strokes, you can't be sure you haven't missed
some of the first ones. I heard three, anyhow,
I'm sure of that.”
"Well, put it down as three," suggested Thong.
“Was it the striking of the clock that awakened
you?"
. "No, not exactly. It was more as if some one
had been in my room.”
"Some one in your room!” exclaimed both de-
tectives. They were questioning Darcy in the liv-
ing-room of Mrs. Darcy's suite, the clerks being
detained downstairs by Mulligan. The county
physician, who was also the coroner, had not yet
arrived.
“Yes, at first I thought some one had been in
my room, and then, after I thought about it, I
wasn't quite sure. All I know is I slept quite
soundly—sounder than usual in fact, and, all at
once, I heard a clock strike."
"Three or four," murmured Thong.
"Yes; three anyhow—maybe four. Something
awakened me suddenly; but what, I can't say. I
remember, at the time, it felt as though something
had passed over my face.”
"Like a hand?” suggested Carroll.
"Well, I couldn't be sure. It may have been
I dreamed it.”
“But what did it feel like?” insisted Thong.
"Well, like a cloth brushing my face more than


King's Dagger
27
like a hand-or it may have been a hand with a
glove on it. Yes, it may have been that. Then
I tried to arouse myself, but I heard the wind
blowing and a sprinkle of rain, and, as my win-
dow was open, I thought the curtain might have
blown across my face. That would account for
it I reasoned, so—".
“Yes, it may have been the curtain," said Thong,
slowly. “But what did you do ?”
"Nothing. I lay still a little while, and then I
went to sleep again. I was only awake maybe
two or three minutes."
"You didn't call Mrs. Darcy?”
"No."
"Nor the servant—what's her name? Sallie ?"
"No. There wasn't any use in that. She's
deaf.”
“And you didn't call the janitor ?”
"No. I wasn't very wide awake, and I didn't
really attach any importance to it until after I
saw her-dead.”
"Um! Yes," murmured Carroll. "Well, then
you went to sleep again. What did you do next?”
"I awakened with a sudden start just before
six o'clock. I had not set an alarm, though I
wanted to get up early to do a little repair job
I had promised for early this morning. But I
have gotten so in the habit of rousing at almost
any hour I mentally set for myself the night be-


28
The Diamond Cross Mystery
fore, that I don't need an alarm clock. I had
fixed my mind on the fact that I wanted to get
up at five-thirty, and I think it was just a quarter
to six when I got up. I was anxious to finish the
repair job for a man who was to leave on an
early train this morning. He may be in any time
now, and I haven't it ready for him.”
"What sort of a repair job?” asked Carroll.
"On a watch."
"Where's the watch now?" and the detective
flicked the ashes from a cigar the reporter had
given him. Daley was down in the jewelry store,
interviewing the clerks while Darcy was on the
grill up above.
"The watch," murmured Darcy. “It--it's in
her hand,” and he nodded in the direction of the
silent figure downstairs.
"The watch that is still ticking?”.
“Yes, but the funny part of it is that the watch
wasn't going last night, when I planned to start
work on it. I forget just why I didn't do it,”
and Darcy seemed a bit confused, a point not lost
sight of by Carroll. "I guess it must have been
because I couldn't see well with the electric light
on my work table,” went on the jewelry worker.
"I've got to get that fixed. Anyhow I didn't do
anything to the Indian's watch more than look at
it, and I made up my mind to rise early and hurry
it through. So I didn't even wind it. I can't


King's Dagger
29
understand what makes it go, unless someone
got in and wound it—and they wouldn't do that.”
“Whose watch is it?” asked Thong.
"It belongs to Singa Phut.”
“Singa Phut!" ejaculated Carroll. “Crimps,
what a name! Who belongs to it?”.
"Singa Phut is an East Indian,” explained
Darcy. He has a curio store down on Water
Street. We have bought some odd things from
him for our customers, queer bead necklaces and
the like. He left the watch with my cousin, who
told me to repair it. It needed a new case-spring
and some of the screws were loose."
"How did Mrs. Darcy come to have the watch
in her hand?” Carroll demanded.
“That I couldn't say."
“What sort of a man is this Indian-Singam
Singa-” began Thong, hesitatingly.
“Singa Phut is a quiet, studious Indian," an-
swered Darcy. "He has not lived here very long,
but I knew him in New York. He has done
business with me for some years."
"Is he all right-safe—not one of them gars—
you know, the fellows that use a silk cord to
strangle you with?” asked Thong, who had some
imagination regarding garroters.
"Not at all like that,” said Darcy, and there
was the trace of a smile on his face. "He is a
gentleman.”


30
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Oh,” said Carroll and Thong in unison.
There came another knock on the side door
downstairs. There was less of a crowd about
now, and Mulligan did not have to keep back a
rush as he opened the portal.
“Dr. Warren," reported the policeman, calling
upstairs to Carroll and Thong.
“The county physician,” explained Carroll.
“Better come down and meet him, Mr. Darcy.
He'll want to ask you some questions. Then we'll
have another go at you. Got to ask a lot of ques-
tions in a case like this," he half apologized.
“Oh, sure," assented the jewelry worker.
"Doc Warren, eh,” mused Thong to his part-
ner, as Darcy preceded them downstairs. “Now
we'll know what killed her, and we'll have some-
thing to start on-maybe.”
"I think we've got something already," observed
Carroll.
"Oh, yes—maybe-and then-again-maybe not.
Come on!"
"Morning boys! Nice crisp day—if you say
it quick !” cried the county physician, as he shook
the rain from his coat and tossed his auto gloves
on a shiny glass showcase. “Second time this
week you've got me out of bed before my time.
What's the matter, if they've got to have a mur-
der, with doing it in the afternoon? I like my
sleep!"


King's Dagger
31
He was smiling and cheerful, was Dr. Warren.
Murders and autopsies were all in the day's work
with him. He had been county physician for a
number of years.
"Hum, yes! quite an old lady,” he mused as he
took off his coat, which Carroll held for him.
The doctor rolled up his shirt sleeves and stooped
down. “Head's badly cut-let's see what we have
here. Let's have a light, it's too dark to see.”
One of the clerks switched on more electric
lights, and they glinted and sparkled on the silver
and cut glass. They flashed on the white, still
face, and the gleams seemed to be swallowed up in
that red blotch in the snowy hair.
"Um, yes! Depressed fracture. Bad place, too.
Shouldn't wonder but what it had done the trick.
Might have been from a black-jack?” and he
glanced questioningly at the detectives.
Carroll shook his head in negation.
"That'll crack a skull, but it won't draw blood
not if it's used right," and he brought from his
hip pocket one of the weapons in question—a short,
stout flexible reed, covered with leather, the end
forming a pocket in which was a chunk of lead.
"I'll gamble it wasn't one of them," said Car-
roll.
"Maybe not," assented the doctor. "Let's look
a bit further.”
He glanced at the floor about the body, peered


32
The Diamond Cross Mystery
around the edge of a showcase, underneath which
there was a space for refuse-odds and ends, dis-
carded wrapping paper and the like-a place into
which neither of the detectives had, as yet, glanced.
Dr. Warren uttered an exclamation, and drew out
a metal statue, about two feet high.
It was that of a hunter, standing as though he
had just delivered a shot, and was peering to see
the effect. The butt of his gun projected behind
him, and as Dr. Warren moved the statue into the
light of the jewelry store chandeliers, they all saw,
clinging to the stock of the gun, some straggling,
white hairs.
"That's what did it !” exclaimed the county
physician. “I'll wager, when I try, I can fit that
gun butt into the depression of the fracture. The
burglar–or whoever it was-swung this statue
as a club. It would make a deadly one, using the
foot end for a handle," and Dr. Warren waved the
ornament in the air over the dead woman's head
to illustrate what he meant.
"Don't!" muttered Darcy in a strained voice.
"Don't what?” asked the physician sharply.
“Use the statue that way."
“Why not?”
"Well-er-1-we were going to buy it for our
new home. But now— Oh, I never want to see
it in the house! I couldn't bear to look at it,
nor could she !"


King's Dagger
33
“She? We? What do you mean?” asked Carroll
quickly. “Say, do you know something about this
killing that you're keeping back from us?"
He took a step nearer Darcy—a threatening
step it would seem, from the fact that the jewelry
worker drew back as if in alarm.
“No, I don't know anything,” said Darcy in a
low voice.
"Then what's this talk about the statue—not
wanting it in the house—whose house?”
"The house I hope to live in with my wife
Miss Amy Mason," answered Darcy, and he spoke
in calm contrast to his former excitement. “We
are going to be married in the fall,” he went on.
“I had asked Mrs. Darcy to set that statue aside
for me. Miss Mason admired it, and I planned to
buy it. We had the place all picked out where it
would stand. But—now "
He did not finish, but a shudder seemed to shake
his frame.
"It would be a rather grewsome object to have
around after it had killed the old lady," murmured
the reporter. "But are you sure it did, Doc?”
"Pretty sure, yes. I never make a statement,
though, until after the autopsy. No telling what
that may develop. I'll get at it right away. I
guess you remember that Murray case," he went
on, to no one in particular. “There they all
thought the man was murdered, when, as a matter


34
The Diamond Cross Mystery
of fact he had been taken with a heart spell, fell
downstairs, and a knife he had in his hand pierced
his heart."
“That wasn't your case, Doc," observed Carroll.
“No, it was before my time. But I remember
it. That's why I'm saying nothing until I've made
an examination. Better 'phone the morgue keep-
er," he went on, “and have them come for the
body.”
"Have you—have you got to take her away?"
faltered Darcy.
“Yes. I'm sorry, but it wouldn't do—here,”
and the doctor motioned to the glittering array of
cut glass and plate. "You won't keep the store
open?” he inquired.
"No. I'll put a notice in the door now," and
Darcy wrote out one which a clerk affixed to the
front door for him.
"Well, that's all I can do now," Dr. Warren
said, after his very perfunctory examination. “The
rest will have to be at the morgue. Got a place
where I can wash my hands?” he asked.
Darcy indicated a little closet near his work
bench. Dr. Warren soon resumed his coat, accept-
ed a cigarette from Daley, slipped into his still
damp rain-garment and was soon throbbing down
the street in his automobile, having announced
that he was going to breakfast and would perform
the autopsy immediately afterward.


King's Dagger
35
Soon a black wagon rattled up to the jewelry
store, bringing fresh acquisitions to the crowd,
which persisted in staying in spite of the rain,
which had now changed from a drizzle to a more
pronounced downpour.
More reporters came, and Daley fraternized
with them, the newspaper men aside from the
police and Jim Haliday, a detective from Prosecu-
tor Bardon's office, being the only people admitted
to the shop, when the clerks had been sent home.
The morgue keeper's men lifted the fast stiffen-
ing body and were about to place it in the wicker
carrier when Carroll, who was watching them
rather idly, uttered an exclamation.
"What's up?" asked Thong quickly. He had
been strolling about the shop, and had come to a
stop near Darcy's work table—a sort of bench
against the wall, and behind one of the show-
cases. The bench was fitted with a lathe, and on
it were parts of watches, like the dead specimens
preserved in alcohol in a doctor's office. "What's
up, Bill?"
"Look !” exclaimed Carroll, pointing.
The men from the morgue had the body raised
in the air. And then, in the gleam from the elec-
tric lights there was revealed underneath and in
the left side of the dead woman a clean slit through
her light dress—a slit the edges of which were
stained with blood.


36
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Another wound !” exclaimed Daley, his news-
paper instincts quickly aroused by this addition
of evidence of mystery. “This is getting inter-
esting!"
"It's a cut-a deep one, too," murmured Car-
roll, as he drew nearer to look. “Wonder what
did it?”
"Shouldn't wonder but it was done with this !"
and Thong held out, on the palm of his large hand,
a slender dagger, on the otherwise bright blade of
which were some dark stains.
“Where'd you get it?" demanded Carroll.
"Over on the watch repair table."
Darcy gasped.
“Is that your dagger?” snapped Carroll at the
jewelry worker.
"It isn't a dagger-it's a paper-cutter-a maga-
zine knife.”
“Well, whatever it is, who owns it?” The
words were as crisp as the steel of the stained
blade.
Darcy stared at the keen knife, and then at the
dead woman.
“Who owns it?" and the question snapped like
a whip.
"I don't! It was left here by—"
There was a commotion at the side door, which
had been opened by Mulligan in order that the men
might carry out the body of Mrs. Darcy. There


King's Dagger
37
was a shuffling of feet, and a rather thick and
unsteady voice asked:
"Whash matter here? Place on fire? Looks
like devil t'pay! Let me in. Shawl right, offisher.
Got a right t' come in, I have! I got something
here. 'Svaluable, too! Don't want that all burned
-spoil shings have 'em burned.
“ 'Lo, Darcy!" went on a young man, who
walked unsteadily into the jewelry store.
"Wheresh tha' paper cutter I left for you ť
'grave Pearl's name on? Got take it home now.
Got take her home some—someshing—square my-
self. Been out al'night-you know how 'tish!
Take wifely home li'l preshent—you know how
'tish. Gotta please wifely when you_hic—been
out all night. Wheresh my gold-mounted paper
cutter, Darcy?"
"Harry King, and stewed to the gills again!”
murmured Pete Daley. “Wow! he has some bun
on!”
"Wheresh my paper cutter, Darcy?” went on
King, smiling in a fashion meant to be merry,
but which was fixed and glassy as to his eyes.
“Wheresh my li'l preshent for wifely? Got her
name all 'graved on it nice an' pretty? Thash
what'll square wifely when I been out-hic-
al'night. Wheresh my paper cutter, Darcy, ol'
man?”
Silently the jewelry worker pointed to the


38
The Diamond Cross Mystery
stained dagger-it was really that, though designed
for a paper cutter. The detective held it out, and
the red spots on it seemed to show brighter in
the gleam of the electric lights.
"Is that your knife, Harry King?" demanded
Thong.
"Sure thash mine! Bought it in li'l ole N' York
lash week. Didn't have no name on it-brought
it here for my ole fren', Darcy, ť engrave. Put
wifely's name on—her namesh Pearl-P-e-a-r-1!”
and he spelled it out laboriously and thickly.
“My wife—she likes them things. Me-I got
no use for 'em. Gimme oyster fork-or clam,
for that matter-an' a bread n' butter knife-'n
I'm all right. But gotta square wife somehow.
Take her home nice preshent. Thatsh me—sure
thash mine!" and carefully trying to balance him-
self, he reached forward as though to take the
stained dagger from the hand of the detective.
"You got Pearl's name 'graved on it, Darcy,
ole man?" asked King, thickly, licking his hot
and feverish lips.
"No," answered the jewelry worker, hollowly.
Then Harry King, seemingly for the first time,
became aware that all was not well in the place
he had entered. He turned and saw the body of
the murdered woman as the men from the morgue
started out with it. He started back as though
some one had struck him a blow.


CHAPTER III
THE FISHERMAN
FROM a little green book, which, from the evi-
dence of its worn covers, seemed to have been
much read, the tall, military-appearing occupant
of a middle seat in the parlor car of the express
to Colchester scanned again this passage:
"And if you rove for perch with a minnow,
then it is best to be alive, you sticking your hook
through his back fin, or a minnow with the hook
in his upper lip, and letting him swim up and
down about mid-water, or a little lower, and you
still keeping him about that depth with a cork,
which ought to be a very little one; and the way
you are to fish for perch with a small frog "
"Ah-a-a-a !”
It was a long-drawn exclamation of anticipatory
delight, and into the eyes of the military-looking
traveler there appeared a soft and gentle light, as
though, in fancy, he could look off across sunlit
meadows to a stream sparkling beneath a blue sky,
white-studded with fleecy clouds, where there was
a soft carpet of green grass, shaded by a noble
oak under which he might lounge and listen to
the wind rustling the newly-born leaves.
40


The Fisherman
41
"Ah-a-a-a!"
“Beg pardon, sir, but I_"
“What?"
The military-appearing man sat up with a jerk
into sudden stiffness, while the soft light died out
of his eyes.
“New York papers?''
“Don't want the New York papers—any of
them!”
The man, after a swift glance from his green-
covered book, again let his eyes seek its pages.
The ghost of a smile flickered around his lips.
"Chicago, then. The latest”
"... your hook being fastened through the skin
of his leg, toward the upper part of it; and lastly
I will give you—”.
"Something livelier in the way of reading, sir,
if you wish it!" broke in the voice of the newsboy
who had stopped beside the parlor-car chair of
the military-looking traveler, interrupting the read-
ing of the little green-covered book. “I have a
new detective story—".
“Look here! If you interrupt me again when
I'm reading my Izaak Walton I'll have you put
off the train! Gad! I will, sir, if I have to do it
myself !”
The military-appearing traveler snapped the
green book against the palm of one hand with a
report like that of a pistol, thereby causing an old


42
The Diamond Cross Mystery
lady, asleep in a chair across the aisle, to awaken
"Are we in? Have we arrived? Is this Col-
chester?" she asked, sitting up and looking about
in startled surprise, her bonnet very much askew.
The newsboy, with an abashed air, slid down the
aisle.
"Madam, I sincerely beg your pardon," said the
tall man who had caused the commotion. He
arose, his green book in one hand, and bowed his
apologies. "I regret exceedingly that I startled
you. But that insufferable young puppy had the
extreme audacity to inflict himself on me when I
was reading, and I lost my temper. I am sorry
but 14"
"You didn't strike him, did you?" asked the
old lady, reproachfully.
“No, madam. Though such conduct would
have been justified on my part, I merely spoke to
him. It was this—this book that I used rather
roughly and which awakened you."
“Then aren't we at Colchester yet?”
“No, madam. It is some little ride yet. If you
will allow me I shall be happy to let you know
when we arrive. And if you are without any
one to help you off with your luggage, as it is rain-
ing and likely to continue"
“Oh, thank you, sir, but Jabez will meet me. I
must have dozed off, and when I heard that
noise "


The Fisherman
43
"Which I regret exceedingly, madam," inter-
posed the military-appearing traveler with another
bow.
The old lady again composed herself. The tall
man bowed again, resumed his seat and tried to
read, but his feelings had been too much ruffled,
it was evident, to allow a peaceful resumption of
his former mood.
“The idea! The very idea!” he murmured,
speaking to the window, against the glass of which
the raindrops were now dashing impotently, and
as though angry at not being admitted to the
warmth and light of the car. For dusk had fallen
and the electric lights were aglow in the Pullman,
making it a very cosy place in contrast to the
damp and muddy country through which the train
was rushing.
"Gad! what's the world coming to when a man
can't read what he likes without every whipper-
snapper interrupting him with— Shag! I say,
Shag !” he went on, raising his voice from a mur-
mured whisper to a louder command. “Porter,
send my man here! Where's that rascal Shag?"
“Yes, sah, Colonel! I'm right yeah! Yeah I is,
Colonel!" and a negro, with a picturesque fringe
of white, kinky hair, shuffled from the porter's
quarters, where he had been enjoying a quiet chat
with the black knight of the whisk broom. “What
is you desire, Colonel?”


44
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"I want peace and quiet, Shag! That's what I
want! Twice I've tried to read my book undis-
turbed, and that insufferable train-boy—that ras-
cal who probably doesn't know an ant-fly from a
piece of cheese—has bothered me with books and
papers. He ought to know I've vowed not to
look at a paper for two weeks, and, as for
books"
Colonel Robert Lee Ashley closed his volume,
which bore, in gold letters on the front green
cover the words: “Walton's Complete Angler,"
and laughed silently, the wrinkles of his face and
around his steel-blue eyes sending the frown scur-
rying for some unseen trench.
"Shag," asked the colonel, still chuckling, "what
do you think that nincompoop had the infernal
audacity to offer me in the way of a book ?".
"I ain't got no idea, Colonel—not th' leastest in
th' world !"
"He offered me a-detective story, Shag!"
"Oh, mah good Lord, Colonel! Not really?"
"Yes, he did, Shag! A detective story!"
"Oh, mah good Lord!”
Shag, which was all Colonel Ashley ever called
his servant, though the colored valet rejoiced in
the prefixes of George Washington, threw up his
hands in horror, and shook his head. The colonel,
after a period of silent, chuckling mirth, opened
his book again and read:


The Fisherman
45
"And, after this manner, you may catch a trout
in a hot evening. When, as you walk by a brook,
and shall hear or see him leap at flies, then if you
get a grasshopper—"
“Gad! that's the life!” softly voiced the colonel.
Then, turning to the still waiting Shag, he went
on: “There's nobody in the wide world who can
bring peace and quiet to an angry mind like my
friend Izaak Walton, is there, Shag?”
"No, sah, Colonel, they isn't! Nobody!”
"Of course not! Gad! I'm glad you agree
with me, Shag !"
“Yes, sah, Colonel.”
"Um! Here, you go and give that newsboy a
quarter. Tell him I didn't mean anything; but
never again must he interrupt me when he sees
me with Walton in my hand. Anything but that!
It's positively indecent!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel. I done tell him that.”
"And it—it's sacrilegious, Shag!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel; 'tis that !”
"Well, tell him so, and give him a half dollar.
Now don't disturb me again until we get to Col-
chester. How's the weather, Shag?”
"Well, sah, Colonel, it's—it's sorter-moist,
Colonel!"
"Um! Well, it'll be better by to-morrow, I ex-
pect, when we go fishing. And be careful of my
rods when you take the grips off. If you so much


The Diamond Cross Mystery
as scratch the tip of even my oldest one, I–I'll
well, you know what I'll do to you, Shag !"
“Yes, sah, I knows, Colonel !"
“Very well. Give that boy a dollar. Maybe
he never read Walton, and that's why he's so
ignorant."
Colonel Ashley settled back in his chair, and,
with unfurrowed brow, read on:
".. . you shall see or hear him leap at flies,
then if you get á grasshopper, put it on your hook
with your line about two yards long, standing be-
hind a bush or tree where his hole is—".
Once more the colonel was happy.
Shag sought out the discomfited newsboy, and,
chuckling as had his master, handed the lad
a dollar.
"Say, what's this for?" questioned the lad, in
astonishment.
"Colonel done say to give it to you fo' hurtin'
yo’ feelin's.”
"He did! Great! Say, does he want a book-
a paper? Say, I got a swell detective story_"
The boy started out of the compartment.
“Oh, mah good Lord! Fo'th' love of honey
cakes, don't!" gasped Shag, grabbing him just in
time. “Does yo' know who the colonel is?”
"No, but he's mighty white if he wants to buy
a dollar's worth of books and papers. I haven't
sold much on this trip, but if he—"
-
-


The Fisherman
47
"But he don't want to, boy! Don't you under-
stan'? Jes' listen to me right now! De colonel
don't want nothin' but Walton an' his angle
worms!
"Who's Walton? What road's he travel on?”
"He don't travel. He's daid, I reckon. But
he done writ a book on fishin' poles, an' dat's all
the colonel reads when he ain't workin' much.
It's a book 'bout angle worms as neah as I kin
make out."
“You mean Izaak Walton's Complete Angler, I
guess," said a man, who passed by just then on
his way to the smoking compartment, and he smiled
genially at Shag.
"Dat's it, yes, sah! I knowed it had suffin ť
do wif angle worms. Well, boy, dat book's all
de colonel ever reads when he's vacationin', an'
dat's whut he's doin' nowmjest vacationin'.
"When we start away dis mawnin' he say to me,
the colonel did: 'Now, Shag, I don't want t be
boddered wif nuffin'. I don't want ť read no
papers. I don't want theah 'bout no battles, mur-
der an' sudden deaths. I jest wants peace an'
quiet an' fish!' He done come up heah t go fishin'
laik he go ť lots other places, though he ain't been
heah fo' good many years. An' boy, he specially
tell me not ť let him be boddered wif book agents.”
"I ain't a book agent," objected the train-boy.
"I knows you ain't," admitted Shag. “I knows


48
The Diamond Cross Mystery
yo' ain't, but yo' sells books, an' dat's whut's de
trouble. Whut kind of a book did yo' offer de
colonel jest now?"
"A detective story. And say! it's a swell one,
let me tell you!"
"Oh, mah good Lord !” ejaculated Shag. “Dat's
de wustest ever!” and he doubled up with silent
mirth.
"Why, what's the matter with that?” asked the
boy. “I've seen heaps of men read detective
stories. Judge Dolan—he rides on my train a
lot-and he's always askin' what I got new in
detective stuff.”
“Um, yep! Well, dat may be all right fo'
Judge Dolan," went on Shag, slowly recovering
from his fit of chuckling, “but mah marster don't
want none of dat kind of readin'."
“Why?" asked the boy.
Shag's answer was given in a peculiar manner.
He looked around carefully, and saw that the
strange man had moved on and they were alone.
Then, leaning toward the newsboy and whisper-
ing, the negro said:
"My marster, Colonel Brentnall—dat ain't his
real name, but it's de one he goes by sometimes
he don't care fo' no detective stories 'cause he
done make his livin' an' mine too, at detectin'.
He says he don't ever want t read 'em, 'cause dey
ain't at all like whut happens. De colonel was one
as


The Fisherman
49
of de biggest private detectives in de United
States, boy! He's sorter retired now, but still
he's chock full of crimes, murder an' stuff laik
dat, an'dat's why he done sent yo’ away sorter
rough-laik.”
"You say he's a private detective?” asked the
boy, his eyes opening wide.
"Dat's whut he is.”
- "And his name is Colonel Brentnall?”
"Well, honey, dat ain't his real name. He don't
laik ť use dat promiscuious laik, 'cause so many
folks bodder him. If I wasť tell yo' his real
name yo'd open yo' eyes wider yet. But take it
from me," went on Shag, "he don't need no
booksť make excitin' readin' fo' him! He's been
froo it fo’ yeahs!”
"Sufferin' tadpoles !" murmured the boy. "And
to think I was offering him a detective yarn! Say,
no wonder he flew at me!"
"He didn't mean nothin'," said Shag, still chuck-
ling as he thought of the scene. "It's jest his
way."
The train rumbled on through the early night,
and in his comfortable chair Colonel Ashley read
his Walton, the ingratiating humor of the dear,
old fisherman gradually dispelling all other
thoughts.
Colonel Ashley at this stage of his career, was
almost an international figure. Having served with


50
The Diamond Cross Mystery
distinction in the Spanish-American war, among
his exploits being the capture of a number of
spies in a sensational manner, he had become the
head of the police department in a large city in
the East.
He had continued the work begun in the army
—a branch of the secret service—and had built up
the city's detective department in an almost mar-
velous manner, he himself being one of its keen-
est sleuths. Desiring more time to devote to the
detection of crimes of other than ordinary inter-
est, and realizing that the routine of police work
was too hampering for him, the colonel had opened
an office in New York, where, straightway, he re-
ceived from the government and private persons
more work than he could well attend to. Now that
he was getting old, he had some able assistants,
but most cases still received his own attention at
some stage of their development. This was char-
acteristic of the colonel. He was always going
to retire, in fact he said he had, but, somehow or
other, it was like a singer's farewell, always post-
poned.
“And now, Shag, don't forget what I told you,”
he said to his attendant as the train drew into
Colchester. “Don't you so much as scratch the
varnish on the tip of one of my rods. And if
you let me hear a whisper of anything bordering
on a case you and I part company-do you hear?"
n


The Fisherman
51
"I heahs yo' Colonel!" and the negro saluted,
for the detective still clung to many of his military
associations. Then, having kept his promise in
seeing that the old lady was safely helped from
the train, Colonel Ashley followed his valet, bur-
dened with bags and rods.
The fishing rods Shag carried, he must have
managed to transport safely to the hotel the
colonel was to occupy for a two weeks' vacation
and rest, for the military detective was smiling
and good-natured when he took them from their
cases and gently placed them on the bed.
"Anything else, Colonel ?” asked Shag, when he
had laid out his master's clothes, and was prepar-
ing to go to his own apartment in an annex to the
hotel.
"No, I guess that's all, Shag. But what's your
hurry? You aren't usually in such haste to leave
me, even if you have laid out all my duds.
What's the matter? Got some friends in town?”
“Oh, no, sah, Colonel! No, indeedy! 'tain't dat
at all!”
"Well, what is it? Why are you in such haste
to get away?”
"Um! Ah! Well, I don't laiks fo’ť tell yo'
Colonel!" and Shag seemed uneasy.
“You don't like to tell me? Look here, you black
rascal! don't try to hide anything from me, do
you hear? You know me, and—”


52
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Oh, indeedy I does know yo', Colonel! Dat's
jest why I don't wan t tell yo'! It—it's 'bout one
ob dem tings!”
"What things? Shag, you rascal, look here!
Have you been buying a newspaper?”
“Ye-ye-yes, sah, Colonel, I has! But I
done bought it fo' mahse'f. Deed an' I wasn't
goin't let yo' hab so much as a snift at it,
Colonel! De train-boy, whut yo' gib a dollar ť,
he handed it t me when I was gittin' off. It's
one ob de papers gotten out right yeah in dis
city, an'-"
"Well, out with it, Shag! What's in it that's
so mighty interesting ?”
"Er—Colonel-yo' see-yo' done tole me-"
“Oh, out with it, Shag! I'll forgive you, I
suppose. What is it?”
"Well, Colonel, sah, de paper done got in it
an 'count ob a strange an' mysterious murder case,
an'_"
"I knew it! I knew it! I could almost have
taken my oath on it!" cried the excitable colonel.
"Here I come to this place to have some quiet
fishing in the suburbs, to get a complete rest, and
yet not be too far from civilization, and no sooner
do I get off the train than there's a murder mys-
tery thrust right under my nose! Right under my
nose! By Gad! I knew it!"
Shag stood, resting his weight first on one foot


The Fisherman
53
and then on the other, his head bowed. He was
trying to keep from slipping from under his vest,
where he had hidden it, a newspaper, with glaring,
black headlines. Shag looked timidly at his mas-
ter.
Colonel Ashley paced up and down the room,
pausing now and then to listen to the dash of
rain against the windows, for the storm, bearing
out its promise of the morning, had lasted all day,
changing from a drizzle to a downpour and from
a downpour to a drizzle with dismal repetition.
The colonel glanced at Shag, and then, drawing
from an inner pocket the little green book, read:
“Hunting is a game for princes and noble per-
sons. It hath been highly prized in all ages. It
was one of the qualifications—”.
The detective snapped the book shut, and tossed
it on the bed.
"Shag!” he exploded.
“Yes, sah, Colonel.”
"You've often heard me talk of fishing and
hunting, haven't you?”
"Deed an' I has, Colonel; many a time! Yes,
sah!”
"Humph! Yes! Well, detective work is a
sort of hunt, isn't it, Shag?”
"Yes, sah, Colonel. Dat's jest what it is! Many
an' many a time I'se done heah yo' say yo's goin'
out t hunt dis man or dat woman!"


54 The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Very good, Shag. And it's a sort of fishing,
too, isn't it?”
“Yes, sah, Colonel! More as once I'se heah
yo'say as how yo’ had ť fish an' fish an' fish ť
git a bit of a clew.”'
"I see you remember, Shag. Well, now, you
black rascal, did you say you've got a newspaper
with an account in it of a strange and mysterious
murder right here in this city?”
“Yes, sah, Colonel! Right yeah in Colchester,
where we done come t'hab puffick rest an' quiet
an' fishin', just laik yo' done said on de train."
"Humph! A murder mystery right here in
town. I thought I heard the newsboys shouting
something about it at the station. But I didn't
listen. Who's killed, Shag?”
"Why, Colonel, sah, it's a poor ole lady, an'-"
"Stop, Shag! Not another word! How dare
you try to get me interested in a case when I
told you if you so much as breathed anything
about one I'd horsewhip you! I told you that,
didn't I ?”
"Deed an' yo' did, Colonel !".
The detective paced up and down the room.
He reached for the little green book. Then, as
if in desperation, he turned to the shrinking negro
and went on:
"You say there's a mystery about it, Shag?"
“Yes, sah, Colonel. Yes, sah !" and he made


56
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Yes, sah, Colonel.”
The old colored man turned slowly to the door.
His manner was dejected. Evidently he had given
serious offense.
Silently he turned the knob, but, before he had
stepped over the threshhold, he heard a voice
calling softly:
"Shag!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel.”
"Eh-Shag—before you go, you-er-you
might leave me that paper I see under your vest.
I may have occasion to-to glance at it, to see
what to-morrow's weather is going to be for fish-
ing.”
"Yes, sah, Colonel.”
And, with a carefully concealed grin on his face,
Shag drew the black-lettered paper from under his
waistcoat, and laid it on the bed beside the “Com-
plete Angler."


CHAPTER IV
SPOTTY
“WELL, now," observed Detective Thong, and,
somehow or other, his voice sounded really cheer-
ful, "let's see where we're at, Mr. Darcy. Have
you looked over the stock all you want to?”.
They were in a room in the rear of the jewelry
store-the city and county detectives, the reporters
and James Darcy—with Policeman Mulligan on
guard near the cut glass and silver gleaming in
the showcases. On guard near a dark red stain
in the floor, scarcely dry-it was still soaking into
the wood. The body of the murdered woman
had been taken away, followed by a sigh of reliet
from James Darcy, who, try as he did, could not
keep his eyes from seeking it.
"The stock is checked up as well as I can do it
in a short time,” replied the jewelry worker, who
had spent some time going over the store under
the watchful eyes of Carroll and Thong. “I'm not
sure anything is taken. If there is, as I said, it
can't be much. But I'll go over everything more
carefully, checking up the books. That will take
a few days, but I can do it while I'm here ar-
57


Spotty
59
do the better for you. But wait until they're
asked. Maybe it's against my interests to say
that, but I've sort of took a notion to you. Now
you'd better get ready to leave.”
“You mean lock the place up?"
“Oh, no, somebody'll have to stay here."
“Not me!" interrupted Mulligan. “I haven't
had my breakfast. I was jest comin' in off dog-
watch when I happened to see what was goin' on
here—the crowd an' everythin'. I ain't goin' to
stay!"
"Well, 'phone in then and get somebody,” ad-
vised Carroll testily. “Somebody's got to be here
until we can look around more."
"I'll stay for a while," said Haliday. "I'd like
to look about a bit myself. I'll probably have to
get the case ready for the prosecutor."
"Well, let's be going then," suggested Thong.
"Shall I ring for the wagon?”.
His partner shook his head after a look at
Darcy.
“The trolley'll be all right for him,” he said in
a whisper. “We can get out the back way and
avoid the crowd,” for the street in front of the
jewelry store was still thronged, in spite of the
ever increasing rain. “As for King, he's asleep,
and I guess we can put him to bed here. If we
try to carry him out there'll be more of a push
than there is now. Let him sleep it off," and he


60
The Diamond Cross Mystery
glanced at a huddled figure in a corner chair.
“Who's asleep?" broke in the thick voice of the
wastral. “Whash matter you fellers, anyhow?
Man comes in get li'l preshent for his wife-wife
sits up all night waitin'—she's 'titled to li'l presh-
ent. Wheresh my gold knife, Darcy? I give it to
you-have 'grave-Pearl's name-wheresh my
knife?"
"You can have it pretty soon," promised Thong.
“Look here, Harry, my boy. You're pretty drunk,
for a fact, but do you happen to know where you
were and what you did last night-and early this
morning? Try to think—it may mean a lot to
you !" and he spoke earnestly. “Where were you-
what did you do?”
“What I did ?" He blinked his eyes rapidly, to
rid them of the water which poured forth in an
effort to assuage their drink-inflamed condition,
and regarded those about him with half-drunken
gravity. “What I did? You want to know-
what—what I did ?"
"Yes. Where were you, and what did you do ?”
asked Carroll easily.
"Hu! Got drunk, thash what I did. Can't you
see? I'm drunk yet, but I don't care! Ha! Had
one swell time, thash what I did! One whale of a
good time! It was some night-a wet night-be-
lieve mema wet night-awful wet. Never had so
mush fun-never! We got ole Doc Harrison


62
The Diamond Cross Mystery
was not a first offense, and he now lived, after
his own peculiar fashion, on the income of an es-
tate settled on him in his better days by an aunt.
Now and then he managed to get larger advances
than the stipulated sum from a rascally lawyer,
who took a chance of reimbursing himself a hun-
dred per cent. when Harry King should come to
the end of his ropea time which seemed not far
off, if the present were any indication. He was
to inherit the bulk of his fortune when he became
thirty-five years of age. He was now thirty-
three, but the pace he was going and keeping made
his chances of living out the stated allotment seem
meager.
"I'm talking to you, Harry, my boy," went on
the detective, "and I advise you, for your own
good, to keep a civil tongue in your head. If you
don't, you may get into trouble. There's been a
murder-"
"A murder!" King's voice was more certain
now.
“Yes. You saw the body carried out-or are
you still so drunk you can't remember? It was
Mrs. Darcy—the lady who owned this jewelry
store, you know. Now pull yourself together.
You've got to come with us and explain a little
about this knife of yours. She was stabbed with
that.”
"With my knife—that paper cutter dagger 1


Spotty
63
was giving as a present to—to my wife?” King's
voice was sobering more now.
“That's the idea, Harry.”
“But I brought that knife to Darcy to have
him engrave it.”
"That may be. It was used to cut the old lady,
though, and laid back on Darcy's work-table.
Come now—brace up, and tell us all you know
about it.”
"Oh, I–I can brace up all right. So the old
lady's dead, is she? Killed-stabbed! Too bad!
Many's the trinket I've bought of her for-for-
well, some of the girls, you know," and he winked
suggestively at the detectives. "Old lady Darcy's
dead! Say, look here, boys!” he exclaimed with
a sudden change of manner, as something seemed
to penetrate to his sodden brain, "you—you don't
for a minute think I did this—do you?” and he
sat up straight for the first time.
"Never mind what we think,” said Carroll.
"We're not paid for telling it—like the reporters,”
and he grinned at Daley of the Times. “We want
to get at the facts. Are you in condition to
talk ?”
"Not here!” interrupted Thong quickly, with a
glance at the newspaper men, which they were
quick to interpret. “Oh, it's all right, boys,” went
on the detective. “We'll let you in for anything
that's going as soon as we can-you know that.”


64
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Sure," agreed Daley. “But don't keep us
waiting all day. The presses are like animals-
they have to be fed, you know. First editions
don't wait for gum-shoe men, even if they're of
the first water. And I've got a city editor who
has a temper like a bear with a sore nose in
huckleberry time. So loosen up as soon as you
can.”
They took King and Darcy to police headquar-
ters in a taxicab which King, with still half-
drunken gravity, insisted on paying for.
Colonel Ashley—or Colonel Brentnall as he had
registered at the hotel-having, by means of a
more or less adroit bit of camouflage, obtained
possession of the newspaper containing an ac-
count of the murder of Mrs. Darcy, and of the
holding of her cousin and Harry King on sus-
picion, tossed the journal on the bed beside his
well-worn copy of the “Complete Angler.” Then,
to demonstrate his complete mastery over himself,
he picked up the book, never so much as glancing
at the black headlines, and read: :
"... I have found it to be a real truth that the
very sitting by the river's side is not only the
quietest and fittest place for contemplation, but
will invite the angler to it; ..."
"I'm a fool!” exploded the colonel. “I came
here to fish; and, first click of the reel, I go nosing
around on the trail of a murder, when I vowed


Spotty
65
I wouldn't even dream of a case. I won't either
-that's flat! I'll get my rods in shape to go
fishing to-morrow. It may clear. Then Shag and
14”
Slowly the book slipped from his hand. It
fell on the bed with a soft thud, and a breeze
from the partly opened window ruffled a page of
the newspaper. The colonel, looking guiltily
around the room, walked nearer to the bed, and
then, as stealthily as though committing a theft,
he picked up the Times. Softly he exclaimed:
“Gad! what's the use?”.
A moment later, pulling his chair beneath an
electric light, he began to read the account of
the murder.
Pete Daley's story of the finding of the dead
body of the owner of the jewelry store was a
graphic bit of work. He described how Darcy,
coming down in the gray dawn, had discovered
the woman lying stark and cold, her head crushed
and a stab wound in her side.
None of the details was lacking, though the
gruesomeness was skilfully covered with some
well-done descriptive writing. The wounds seemed
to have been inflicted at the same time—one by
the metal statue of a hunter found on the floor
near the body, the other by a dagger-like paper
cutter, admitted to be owned by Harry King, but
which, with the blade blood-stained, was found


66
The Diamond Cross Mystery
on the jewelry bench of her cousin James Darcy.
The solution of the murder mystery depended
on the answers to two questions, the reporter
pointed out. First, which wound killed Mrs. Dar-
cy? Second, who inflicted either or both wounds?
There were ramifications from these beginnings
—such as the motive for the crime; whether or
not there had been a robbery; and, if so, by whom
committed. Then, to get to the more personal
problem, did either King or Darcy commit the
murder, and, if so, why?
"Um," mused the colonel, reading the Times
on the evening of the day the crime was discovered.
"It may turn out to be a mystery after all, in
spite of the two men who are held. Let's see
now," and he went on with his perusal of the
paper.
The autopsy had been performed, and Dr. War-
ren had said either wound might have caused
death; for the skull was badly fractured, and vital
organs had been pierced by the dagger, which the
cutter of foreign make.
King and Darcy were not, as yet, formally ar-
rested, being “detained,” merely, at police head-
quarters as witnesses, though there was no ques-
tion but that suspicion was cast on both. Under
the law a formal charge must be made against
them within twenty-four hours, and unless this


Spotty
67
was done King's lawyer threatened to bring
habeas corpus proceedings for his client.
"Oh, there'll be a charge made before then all
right,” said Thong easily, when the legal shyster
had, with threatening finger under the detective's
nose, made much of this point. “I'm not saying
it will be against your man, Mr. Fussell, but
there'll be a charge made all right.”
It is needless to say that both suspected men
protested they knew nothing about the killing.
King was frank enough-sober now—to say he
had been drunk all night-spending the hours with
boon companions in a notorious resort, a statement
which seemed capable enough of proof.
Darcy told over and over again how he had come
downstairs to find his relative stretched on the
floor of the shop, and, aside from that little rest-
less period of the night, he had heard no disturb-
ance. Sallie Page could tell nothing, the maid
was out of the city, and none of the clerks knew
more of what had happened than they were told.
Playing up Darcy's story, Daley and some of the
other reporters speculated on whether or not a
burglar might have entered the store, leaving no
trace of his uncanny skill, and, in his wanderings
about the place, have entered Darcy's room. He
might even have attempted to chloroform the
jewelry worker, it was suggested, and perhaps
did, slightly. Then, descending to the store, the


68
The Diamond Cross Mystery
intruder might have started to loot the safe when
he was disturbed by Mrs. Darcy, who may have
come down to see what the unusual noise was.
Such, at least, was a theory, and one several
took stock in. At any rate Darcy, after having
been aroused, by what he knew not, had gone to
sleep again, only to awaken to hurry down to do
the repair work on the watch of the East Indian-
the watch that was found so uncannily ticking in
the otherwise silent jewelry store, clasped in the
hand of the dead woman. It was mentioned that
Singa Phut was being kept under observation,
though no suspicion attached to him.
Darcy had at first nervously, and then indig-
nantly, protested his innocence, King continually
doing the latter. Naturally there followed, even
with the faint suspicions so far engendered, the
question as to what the possible object for the
crime could have been, presuming either man had
been involved.
It was known that King was constantly in debt,
in spite of his allowance and the more substantial
advances he received from time to time. He had
patronized the jewelry store, and he admitted ow-
ing Mrs. Darcy quite a large sum for a brooch he
had purchased for his wife some time before. It
was, of course, possible, that he had, in his drunk-
en state, gone to the store to get the paper cutter,
which some peculiar kink or twist in his drink-


Spotty
69
inflamed brain had caused him to remember at an
odd time. Or perhaps he had run short of money
when playing cards, and have gone to Mrs. Darcy's
store to borrow or see if he could not get some-
thing on which he might raise cash.
Harry King was known to have been gambling
the night before, the game lasting until nearly
morning, and at one stage, when King was
"broke," he had excused himself, gone out into
the night alone, and had come back well supplied
with funds. Asked jokingly by his cronies where
he had got the money, he had said "a lady” gave
it to him. He resumed play, only to lose, and had
staggered out into the gray dawn, which was the
last his companions had seen of him. He next
appeared at the jewelry store after the murder.
Sobered, King's explanation was that "a lady"
had really given him the money, but who she was,
or why she gave him funds at two o'clock in the
morning, he would not say. He admitted calling
at the jewelry store somewhere around eleven
o'clock at night for the purpose of seeing if the
engraving on the paper cutter had been finished.
King was not so very drunk then, he said. He
was just "starting in."
The store was closed, he said, but he added a bit
of testimony that caused Colonel Ashley, and
others, to think a bit.
King said that, though the front doors to the


70
The Diamond Cross Mystery
store were locked, he, knowing the place well, had
gone around to the side door in the alley, thinking
that might not yet be fastened. He hoped, he said,
to be able to get in and procure the present for
his wife. But this door, too, was locked, though
through the glass he could see a light in the rear
room. And he could hear voices, which were
raised louder than ordinary.
The voices, King added, were those of Mrs.
Darcy and her counsin, James Darcy, and it was
evident that a quarrel was in progress. Asked
as to the nature of the dispute King had said he
had heard mentioned several times the name
“Amy." There was also something said about
money and an "electric lathe.”
Naturally there was an inquiry as to who "Amy"
was, and what was meant by the electric lathe.
Darcy answered with seeming frankness that the
Amy in question was Miss Mason, daughter of
Adrian Mason, wealthy stockman of Pompey, a
village about ten miles from Colchester. Mr.
Mason had what was often referred to as a
“show place,” with blooded horses and cattle, and
he was quite a financial figure in Monroe county,
of which Colchester was the county seat.
Besides this, Amy was well off in her own
right, her uncle having left her a half interest in
a valuable mine.
James Darcy and Amy Mason were engaged to


Spotty
11
be married, though this fact was known to but
few, and made quite a sensation when Darcy ad-
mitted it after his arrest. He and Amy had known
each other since childhood, and when small had
lived near each other.
Mr. Mason, in spite of his wealth, was a demo-
cratic man, and though he knew, and Amy also,
that she might have married wealth and position,
both were "passed up," to quote the stockman him-
self, in favor of a real love match. For that is
what it was.
"He's a man, that's what James Darcy is !"
Amy's father had said, when someone hinted
that he had neither wealth nor family of which
to boast. “He's a man! He's got all the family
he needs. What's a family good for, anyhow,
after you're grown up? As for money, I've got
more than I need, and Amy's got a little nest-
egg of her own. Besides, Darcy can earn his
living, which is a hanged sight more than some
of these dancing lizards can do if they were
put to it.”
It developed that the words over Amy which
had occurred, just before the murder, between
James Darcy and his cousin, had to do with the
difference in the worldly prospects of the two
young people. Mrs. Darcy had rather laughed at
him, James said, for thinking of marrying a girl
so much wealthier than he was.


72 The Diamond Cross Mystery
"What did you tell her?” asked Carroll. "I
mean your cousin."
"I told her I could support my wife decently
well, if not in such state as that to which she was
accustomed in her father's house. As for style,
neither Miss Mason nor I care for it. And, if
things go right, I may be able to bring her as much
wealth as she has herself.”
"How do you mean if things go right?" asked
the detective.
"Well, if I can perfect the electric lathe I am
trying to patent," was the answer.
"Oh, so that's what King heard about an elece*
tric lathe?"
"I suppose so. It's no great secret. I've been
working on it for some time, but my cousin ob-
jected to my spending my time that way. She
thought I should devote it all to her interests,
even outside the shop. I told her I had my own
future to look to, and we often had words about
that. Last night's quarrel wasn't the first, though
she was especially bitter over my work on the
lathe. I have been giving it more time than usual
because it is nearly finished, and I want to get it
ready to show at a big Eastern jewelry conven-
tion.”
"And what was the talk about money?"
“Well, Mrs. Darcy owed me about a thousand
dollars. I had done some special work on making


Spotty
73
necklaces for her customers, and she had promised,
if they were pleased, to pay me extra for the ex-
clusive designs I got up. The customers were
pleased, and they paid her extra for the ornaments.
So I demanded that she keep her promise, but
she refused, pleading that many other customers
owed her and times were hard. I needed that
thousand dollars to help complete my lathe model,
and-well, we had words over that, too."
"Then, do I understand,” summed up Carroll,
“that the night Mrs. Darcy was killed you had a
quarrel with her over Miss Mason, and about the
money and because you spent too much time work-
ing on your patent lathe?”
"Well, yes, though I don't admit I spent too
much time, and I surely will claim she owed me
that money. As for Miss Mason-I'd prefer to
have her name left out," faltered the young jew-
eler.
"We can't always have what we want,” said
Thong, dryly. “Was the quarrel specially bitter?”
“Not any more so than others. I had to speak
a little loud, for my cousin was getting a trifle
deaf.”
"And after the quarrel you went to bed?”
“Yes.”
"And you didn't see your cousin again until-
when?” and Carroll looked Darcy straight in the
eyes.


74
The Diamond Cross Mystery
The
N-
“Not until after she was-dead."
“Um! I guess that's all now."
They let the young man go back to his room
in police headquarters. It was not a cell—yet,
though it would seem likely to come to that, for
Thong observed to his partner as they went down-
stairs :
"Well, there's a motive all right.”
“Three, if you like. But none of 'em hardly
strong enough for murder.”
“Oh, I don't know. I hear he has quite a
temper-different from Harry King's, but enough,
especially if he got riled about the old lady talking
against his girl. You never can tell.”
"No, that's so.”
Left alone, James Darcy threw himself into a
chair and looked blankly at the dull-painted wall.
"This is fierce!” he murmured. “It will be
a terrible blow to Amy! I wonder-I wonder if
she'll have anything to do with me after this?
The shame of it—the disgrace! Oh, Amy! if
I could only know!” and he reached out his hand
as though to thrust them beyond the confines of
the walls. He bowed his head in his arms and
was silent and motionless a long time.
Up in his hotel room, Colonel Ashley read the
story of the case as printed in the Times.
"This does begin to get interesting,” he mused,
as he finished reading the account. “There are


Spotty
75
three possible motives in Darcy's case, and one
in King's. And I've known murder to be done
on slighter provocation. Darcy might have re-
sented being called a fortune hunter, which, I
suppose, is what the old lady meant, or he may
have been stung to sudden passion by the holding
back of the thousand dollars and the taunts about
his lathe. Most inventors are crazy anyhow.
"As for King—if he was drunk enough, and
wanted money—or thought he could get some
diamonds—it might be—it might be. I wonder
who his lady friend is? He daren't tell, I sup-
post, on account of his wife. I wonder "
"Oh, what am I bothering about it for, any-
how? I came here to rest and fish, and I'm
going to. I've resigned from detective work!
There!” He tossed the paper behind the bed.
"I'll not look at another issue. Now let's see how
my rods are. I'm going to get an early start in
the morning, if this infernal rain lets up. Blast
that Shag! He's jammed a ferrule !” and, with
blazing eyes, the colonel looked at one of the
joints of his choicest rod. A brass connection had
been bent.
· "That's a shame! It'll never work that way-
never! I've got to go out and see if I can't get
it mended. Wonder if there's a decent sporting
goods store in this part of town. I'll go out and
have a look."


176
The Diamond Cross Mystery
He made himself ready, taking the two parts of
the fishing rod with him. Inquiry at the hotel
desk supplied him with the information as to the
location of the store, and the detective was soon
out in the wet streets, breathing in deep of the
damp air-for it was fresh and that was what the
colonel liked.
Somehow or other the address of the jewelry
store clung to his mind, and, almost unconsciously,
he found himself heading in that direction.
"Well, I am a fool!” he murmured, as he
passed the place, now ghostly with its one light in
front of the safe. The police had taken charge,
pending the arrival of a relative of Mrs. Darcy's.
Inside, the cut glass and silver gleamed as of
old, but on the floor, sunk deep in the grain of
the wood now, was the spot of blood-fit to
keep company with the red rubies in the locked
safe.
"Quite a place," murmured the colonel, as he
passed on toward the sporting goods store. “Quite
a place! Oh, hang it! I must get it out of my
mind!"
In spite of his rather exacting demands re-
garding a ferrule for his rod, he found what he
wanted and, feeling quite satisfied now, as he
noted that the weather showed some slight signs
pf clearing, the colonel started back for his hotel,
walking slowly, for it was not yet late.


· Spotty
177
Just how it happened, not even Colonel Ashley,
naturally the most interested person, could tell
afterward. But as the detective was crossing a
crowded street a big auto truck swung around a
corner, and he found himself directly in its path
as he stepped off the curb.
Active as he always kept himself, the old de-
tective sprang back out of the way. But fate,
in the person of a small boy, had just a little
while before, dropped a banana skin on the streets.
And the colonel stepped squarely on this peeling,
as he tried to retreat.
There was a sudden sliding, an endeavor to
retain his footing, and then Colonel Ashley fell
prostrate, his fishing rod pieces spinning from his
fingers. Down he went, and the truck thundered
straight at him.
It was almost upon him, and the big, solid,
front tires were about to crush him, in spite of
the frantic efforts of the driver to swerve his
machine to one side, when a slim figure dashed
from the crowd on the sidewalk, and, with an in-
distinguishable cry, seized the colonel by the shoul-
ders, fairly dragging him with a desperate burst
of strength from the very path of death.
There were gasps of alarm and sighs of relief.
The driver of the truck swore audibly, but it
was more a prayer than an oath. The colonel,
grimy and muddy, was set on his feet by his


Spotty
“My gawd! It's you! Colonel”.
Further words were stopped by the detective's
hand placed softly, quickly, and so dexterously as
hardly to be seen by those in the crowd, over the
mouth of the speaker.
"No names—here !” whispered the colonel in
the big ear of the man who had saved him from
death.
The slim little man gave a wiggle like an eel,
and would have darted away through the crowd,
but there was a vice-like grip on his shoulder
that he knew but too well.
"Spotty, my name's Brentnall for the present,"
said the colonel, with a grim smile. "And you'd
better come with me. How about it?"
Spotty Morgan hesitated a moment, nodded
silently, and then, arm in arm with the man whom
he had pulled from the path of the big truck,
went down the street, the mist and rain swallowing
them up.


CHAPTER V
AMY'S APPEAL
TINKLING glasses formed a friendly rampart
between Colonel Ashley and Spotty Morgan.
Spotty looked narrowly and shrewdly at the de-
tective.
"I didn't expect to see you here,” remarked the
gunman, speaking out of the side of his mouth,
with scarcely a motion of his lipsa habit ac-
quired through long practice in preventing prison
keepers from finding out that he was disobeying
the rules regarding silence. “Not for a minute
did I expect to run across you here, Colonel
As "
"Not that name, Spotty, if you please," and
the fisherman-detective smiled in easy fashion.
“You know my little habits in that regard. I'm
known here as Brentnall, and, if it's all the same
to you, just use that. As for you, if Spotty- "
"Oh, that suits me as well as any other. I can
change whenever I like.” Spotty raised a glass
to his lips, and, with a murmured "here's how,"
let the contents slide down his always-parched
throat.
80


Amy's Appeal
81
“That's so, Spotty. Well, I didn't expect to
see you here, I give you my word. When did
you leave New York ?”
"Well, I come away-
“Hold on!” interrupted the colonel. "Don't
answer. I shouldn't have asked. I forgot you
saved my life just now. Gad! it isn't the first
time I've nearly passed over, but-not in that
way!” and he reached for his glass to conceal the
shudder that passed over him as he thought of the
rumbling wheels of the thundering truck.
“Well, Colonel, I- "
“Never mind, Spotty. Perhaps the less you
talk the better off you'll be. Does anybody in
town know you're here?”
"Well, my picture "
“Yes, it is probably down at headquarters. But
they're too busy to look for it now. But they
may-later. So far you haven't been recognized
then?”
"Only by you, and it'd take a pretty clever
"No compliments, Spotty. We've gotten over
that. You disguised yourself very well, but the
freckles show through.”
“Yes, damn 'em!” heartily exploded the gun-
man. "I can't cover 'em up. I've tried every-
thing, but I guess I'll have to go togged up like a
colored man to fool the other bulls. As for you,
Colonel "


82
The Diamond Cross Mystery
1e
o
S
“There you go again! Cut it out! This is
business.” .
“Yes, good business for you, but bad for me.
I didn't think you'd get after me so soon,
Colonel!”
“I'm not after you, Spotty."
The detective spoke quietly, but the effect on
the man sitting across the table from him, in one
of the less conspicuous cafes in Colchester, had
the effect of a shout.
"Not after me? You ain't?” and Spotty drew
away from the array of glasses and bottles so
suddenly that he overturned a tumbler with its
tinkling chunk of ice. “Not after me, Colonel ?”
"No, I came here for a quiet bit of fishing, and
I just stumbled on this case against my will. I'm
not even working on it, and I'm not going to.
Nobody knows I'm in town except my man Shag
—and you. I know I can depend on Shag, and
as for you— "
"I'm with you till the cows come to roost,
Colonel. I'm strong fer you! I kin forget I
ever saw you."
“That's good. I thought you'd be that way.
So, as no one knows I'm in town (the colonel
knew nothing of what Shag had said to the news-
boy), I can keep under cover and have my fishing
as I like it-quiet. I don't intend any one shall
know I'm here, either.


Amy's Appeal
83
“Now, Spotty, I'm a plain-spoken man when
there's occasion for it, and this is one of those
times, I guess. You saved my life just now. I
know that. Of course I realize I might just have
been badly hurt, and perhaps have lingered on in
a hospital for some years—but that would be
worse than death. I consider that you saved my
life. I couldn't have moved out of the way of
that truck any more than I could have flown. I
realize it more and more. You did me the biggest
service one man can do another, and I'm not
going to forget it, Spotty.”
“No, I guess remembering is your long suit,
Colonel.”
"Well, that's all in a day's work. I didn't for-
get you, Spotty. Now, as I said, you saved my
life. I believe in turning the tables, and though I
can't do for you what you did for me, maybe I
can help in a way."
"You kin gamble on that, Colonel !"
"Listen to me, Spotty," and the detective leaned
forward and spoke in a low, tense voice. "Just
now, as I say, I'm not in this case. Not being a
public official, I'm not bound to use what knowl-
edge or suspicions I have regarding this matter,
and I'm not particularly interested—as yet. So
I'm going to give you a chance, just as you gave
me mine now. It isn't exactly the same, for
maybe you wouldn't lose your life. You've been


84
The Diamond Cross Mystery
devilishly lucky, and gotten through more narrow
places than I'd ever give you credit for.
"So it may seem that I'm not quite squaring
the account, but it's all I can do-now. I'm
going to give you your chance. I'm not going to
ask you any questions. You know what you
know and I know what I know. Now, Spotty,
streak it out of town as fast as a train can take
you, and don't come back!”
Spotty Morgan made little wet rings on the
table with his empty glass. A waiter, hovering
near by, caught the glint of his eye and brought
the liquor. Then Spotty, after a libation, spoke.
"Colonel,” he said slowly, "most of what you
has been spielin' is like the lawyer guys git off
in court. I don't quite tumble, but I take it
you mean you're goin't let me go."
"That's it, Spotty! I'm going to let you go this
time!"
"No double crossin'?”.
"You know me better than that! I'll give you
twenty-four hours to get out of town. After
that I may happen to know more than I know
now, and it would be my duty-whether I'm of:
ficially on the case or not-to arrest you.
"But now you're free. It's your life and lib-
erty for mine-maybe not quite an even exchange,
since you'd have more than even chances if it
came to a trial, I suppose. But it's the best I


Amy's Appeal
85
can do. I'm giving you this chance. I'd be a
dirty dog if I didn't. But remember this, Spotty!
I give you only one chance, just as you gave me-
just as you took one and saved me. If I see
you again, and this thing hangs over you, I may
have to pull you up."
"All right, Colonel. That's a square deal. But
don't worry. You won't see me if I see you first.
I didn't dream you'd be after me so soon for the
job I only done last night. I'd oughter cleared
out, but I was waitin' for a pal, an–Oh, well,
it was just like you to come around early.”
"Man, don't you understand ? I'm not after
you! I didn't for an instant think you had a
hand in it until just now. And I'm not admit-
ting, even yet, that you did have. I haven't done
a tap of work on the case, and I'm not going to.
My advise to you is to get out of town before
I may get into this thing against my will. Skip,
Spotty! It's the only way I can pay my debt
to you!"
The colonel made as though to hold out his
hand to the freckle-faced man opposite him, and
then changed the motion of his arm and picked
up his glass.
"Skip, Spotty!" he murmured again.
"All right, Colonel, I will! I know when the
goin's good. So long. And—thanks!”
Spotty, still talking through the corner of his


86
The Diamond Cross Mystery
mouth, gave a quick glance around the room and
slid out of a side door like an eel, disappearing
into the rain and mist.
For some little time the colonel sat before the
glasses, in which the cracked ice was rapidly
melting. He, too, made little rings of water on
the table.
"I wonder-” he mused, "I wonder if I did
right."
His hand sought his pocket, and came out
empty.
"I guess I must have left it on the bed,” he
murmured. “But I can remember it.”
Then, as though reading from the little green
book, he recited :
"But if the old salmon gets to the sea. . . and
he recovers his strength, and comes next summer
to the same river, if it be possible. ..".
"Spotty is a veritable salmon," mused the
colonel, “even if he is speckled like a trout. I
wonder, if he gets into the sea of New York, if
I'll ever be able to land him?
"Well, he gave me my life, and I just had to
give him a chance for his. It was all I could
do. Now to fish and forget everything!"
It was a fair morning in April, with the sun
just right, with the "wind in the west when the
fish bite best," and Colonel Robert Lee Ashley,
with the faithful Shag to carry his rods, creel


Amy's Appeal
87
and a lunch basket, sallied forth from his hotel
for a day beside a no-very-distant stream, the
virtues of which he had heard were most alluring
as regarded trout.
“Shag!” exclaimed the colonel, when they were
tramping through a field near the river, having
reached that vantage point by a most prosaic
trolley car, “this is a beautiful day!”
"It suah am, sah!”
“And I'm going to catch some fine fish!”
“I suah does hope so, Colonel !"
"All right then! Now don't say another word
until I speak to you. We'll be there pretty soon,
and if there's one thing more than another that I
hate, it's to have some one talking when I'm fish-
ing."
“Yes, sah, Colonel !”
“Um! Well, see that you mind !"
Selecting with care a fly from his numerous
collection, and hoping the appetites of the fish
would incline them to consider it favorably that
morning, Colonel Ashley proceeded to make his
casts, standing not far from a bent, gnarled and
twisted elm tree, that overhung the bank of the
stream where the current had cut into the soil,
making a deep eddy, in which a lazy trout might
choose to lie in wait for some choice morsel.
Lightly as a falling feather, the fisherman let
his fly come to rest on the sun-lit water, and,


88 The Diamond Cross Mystery
hardly had it sent the first, few faint ripples cir-
cling toward shore than there was a shrill song
of the reel, and the rod became a bent bow.
"By the bones of Sir Izaak!” cried the colonel,
"I've hooked one, Shag!"
"De Lord be praised! So yo' has, Colonel !"
cried the negro.
"Shut up!” ordered the colonel, who was be-
ginning to play his fish. "Did I tell you to
speak?"
But Shag only laughed. He knew his master.
After ten minutes of skilful work, during which
time the trout nearly got away by shooting under
a submerged log like an undersea boat diving be-
neath a battle cruiser, the colonel landed his fish,
dropping it, panting, on the green grass. Then
he looked up at Shag and remarked:
"Didn't I tell you this was a perfectly beautiful
day?”
“Yo' suah did, Colonel,” was the chuckling an-
swer. “Yo'suah did !"
And so much at peace with himself and all the
world was Colonel Robert Lee Ashley just then
that, when the crackling of the underbrush be-
hind him, a moment later, gave notice that some
one was approaching, there was even a smile on
his face, though, usually, he could not bear to be
intruded upon when fishing.
Rather idly the colonel, having mercifully killed


Amy's Appeal
89
his fish by a blow on top of the head and slipped
it into the grass-lined creel, looked up to see ap-
proaching a young lady and a tall and somewhat
lanky boy. There was some thing vaguely
familiar about the boy, though the fisherman did
not tax his mind with remembering, then, where
or when he had seen him before.
"There he is,” went the words of the boy, as
he and the young woman came in sight of the
colonel and Shag—but it was at the detective the
lad pointed. “There he is !”
The girl rushed impulsively forward, and, as
she held out her hands in a voiceless appeal, there
was worry and anguish depicted on her face.
"Are you Colonel Brentnall?” she asked.
The colonel was sufficiently familiar with his
alias not to betray surprise when it was used.
"I am,” he said, and the peaceful, joyous look
that had come into his eyes when he had landed
his fish gave way to a hard and professional
stare.
"Oh, Colonel Brentnall! I've come to ask you to
help me-help him! You will, won't you? Don't
say you won't!"
The girl's face, her blue eyes, the outstretched
hands, the very poise of her lithe, young body
voiced the appeal.
"My dear young lady," began the colonel. But
she interrupted with:


90 The Diamond Cross Mystery
"You're the detective, aren't you?”
"Well-er-1-Say rather a detective, for there
are many, and I am only one."
“But you are the one from New York?”
“I am though I don't know how you guessed
it. I am not here professionally, though-in fact,
I've practically retired—and I would much pre-
fer-
"But you wouldn't refuse to help any one who
needed it, would you? You wouldn't, I'm sure!"
and the girl smiled through the tears in her blue
eyes.
“Oh, of course, as a matter of humanity, I
would not refuse to help any one. But, profes-
sionally-well, really, I'm not here in my detec-
tive role. I really can not consider anything at
this time. I don't want to seem harsh, or im-
polite, but I can't- "
"Not even for double your usual fee? Listen!
I am prepared to pay well for anything you can
do for me—and him. My father is well off. I
have money in my own right. I'd spend the
last dollar of that. And dad said, when I told
him where I was going—Dad said he'd do the
same. We both believe Jimmie is innocent, and
we want to prove it to everybody as soon as we
can. That's why I came right on to see you. I
couldn't wait! Oh, perhaps I did wrong, coming
this way—I'm sorry if I've spoiled your fishing.


Amy's Appeal
91
But this is such—such a big thing—it means so
much to him—to me! I-I— "
She faltered, looking from Shag to the colonel
and then to the sympathetic colored man again,
for on his face was a look of pity.
"How did you know I was here?” asked Colonel
Ashley.
"I went to your hotel. The clerk told me you
had come to this stream. It's the only good one
for trout around here besides the one on my
father's farm.”
"Has your father a trout stream?" and the
eyes of the colonel took on a kindly gleam.
"He has, and it's well stocked. But please,
won't you help me? You are the only one who
can!”
"I'm not sure of that, my dear young lady.
And, really, I hardly understand what it's all
about. You say the hotel clerk told you I was
here. I can understand that, for I asked him
the best way to reach this place. But how did
you know I was a detective and stopping at the
Adams House?”
“He told me!" She pointed to the lanky youth.
The colonel and Shag turned their eyes on
him. Shag gave a start of surprise. The colonel
began to leaf over the brain tablets of his mem-
ory system. He was beginning to place the lad.
“Mah good land of massy!" ejaculated the


92
The Diamond Cross Mystery
negro. "It's de train newsboy whut yo' give a
dollar to las' night, Colonel !"
“The one who wanted to sell me a detective
story?"
"I'm him, Colonel Brentnall," answered the lad,
a smile of triumph lighting up his face. "Your
man told me who you was, and I heard you tell
the taxi man where to drive you. I didn't think
anything more about it until I read about the
murder."
"The murder !” exclaimed the colonel. Some-
how that seemed to follow him as a Nemesis.
"Yes—old Mrs. Darcy—the jewelry store
lady," went on the boy. “This young lady," and
he nodded toward his companion, "when I told
her- "
"Perhaps you had better let me explain, Tom,"
broke in the girl. “You see it's this way," she
went on, addressing the colonel. “This boy is
Tom Tracy. He sells papers on the express. He
was once a jockey for my father, but he got hurt
-stiff arm—and we had to get him something
else to do. Dad always looks out for his boys,
and so Tom went on the road.”
"I had to do something that had motion in it,"
Tom explained in an aside.
"Yes, it was as near to horseback riding as he
could come,” said the girl, and she smiled, though
the grief did not leave her blue eyes. “Well, as


Amy's Appeal
93
he has told you, he heard who you were, Colonel,
from your man. Then when he read about the
murder, and found how-how close home it came
to me, he hurried out to our place and said I
should engage you to help "
"He's the biggest detective in New York!"
broke in Tom. “And that's what we need—a big
New York detective !"
"But what's it all about?" asked the colonel.
"This is talking in riddles, though I begin to see
a little
"I beg your pardon," said the girl. “I should
have told you who I am. My name is Amy
Mason, and
“Ah! You are engaged to be married to James
Darcy, who is-er-detained as a-er-as a
witness in the murder of his cousin ?"
"I am," and she seemed to glory in it. "As
soon as I heard what had happened—to him-I
wanted to help. They would not let me see
Jimmie at police headquarters, but I sent word
that dad and I were going to work for him every
minute.”
“That must have cheered him."
"I hope it did. But I want to do more than
that. I want to help him! I want to get the
best detective in the country to work on the case
and prove that Jimmie didn't do this—this terrible
thing of which he is accused."


94
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"He isn't exactly accused yet, as I understand
it, Miss Mason.”
"Oh, well, it's just as bad. He is suspected.
Why, Jimmie wouldn't have caused Mrs. Darcy
a moment of pain, to say nothing of striking
her-killing her! Oh, it's horrible—horrible!"
and she covered her face with her hands.
"I don't quite understand," began the colonel,
"why you came to me, or how ”
"I told her it was the only thing to do,” broke
in the newsboy. “Soon as I read about Carroll
and Thong being on the case I knew it would take
a fly one to put anything over on them. I tried
on the train to sell you a detective book, not
knowing who you was. You treated me white,
and when I heard Miss Mason was in trouble-
or her friend was—I said to myself right away
that you was the one to fix things. I went out to
her farm last night and she was all broke up."
"It was a terrible shock to me when I heard
Jimmie was under arrest," said the girl. “I didn't
know what to do. Tom, here, proposed coming
to see you, and when dad heard who you were,
though we knew nothing of you, he said the same
thing. He told me I could have all the money I
wanted, and I have some of my own if his isn't
enough.”
"It isn't always a question of money," began
the colonel, gently.


Amy's Appeal
95
"I know!" broke in Amy. "But if I add the
inducement of all the trout fishing "
“You are strongly tempting me, my dear young
lady. But finish your story.”
"Well, there isn't much more to tell. Tom
suggested that I come to see you and ask you to
take Mr. Darcy's case—to prove that he had no
hand in the murder—for I'm sure he did not.
"Tom stayed at our house at Pompey all night.
I wanted to come to your hotel at once, but the
storm got too bad, so I waited until this morning,
and then we motored in. We found you had
gone fishing, and we followed you here. It was,
perhaps, not just the thing to do. But I was so
anxious! I want to tell Jimmie that something
is being done for him. You will help us, won't
you?" and again she held out her hands appeal-
ingly.
"I don't know anything about police or detec-
tives,” she went on, “but I'm sure there must be
some way of proving that my—that Jimmie hadi
no hand in this. Some terrible thief-a burglar-
must have killed Mrs. Darcy. Oh, Colonel Brent-
nall, you will help us—won't you?”
She stood there, a beautiful and pathetic pic.
ture. The wind sighed through the trees and the
murmur of the rippling water filled the air.
"Please !” she whispered. Her hands seemed
to waver. Her body swayed


96
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Shag, you black rascal!” cried the colonel.
"The lady's going to faint! Catch her!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel!”
"No! Stand back! I'll attend to her myself !
I've given up detective work, but
And a moment later Amy Mason sank limply
into the colonel's arms.


CHAPTER VI
GRAFTON'S SEARCH
The funeral of Mrs. Darcy had been held, at-
tended, as might be supposed, by a large throng
of the merely curious, as well as by some of her
distant kinsfolk, for she had few near ones. One
of the relatives was summoned to take charge of
the store and her other business affairs, for, a
formal charge of murder having been made
against him, James Darcy was not permitted to
attend the final services, nor have anything more
to do with the jewelry establishment. Harry
King, now painfully sober, was likewise held in
jail, bail being fixed, because of his uncertain
character, at such a high figure that he could not
secure it.
The police had been busy, the prosecutor's de-
tectives also, but, so far, the arrest of Darcy and
King had been the only ones made. Singa Phut,
whose watch was found clasped in the dead
woman's hand, had been closely questioned, but
had established a perfect alibi.
And the testimony as to this came, not from
persons of his own nationality, but from business
97


98
The Diamond Cross Mystery
men and others, whose words could not be
doubted. So, in the opinion of the authorities, he
was not worth considering further. He admitted
having left his watch at the shop to be repaired,
some days before the murder, and had not called
at the store since, except on the morning of the
crime, and some time after its discovery, to get
his timepiece, which, of course, he was not then
allowed to take.
Darcy had been formally charged with the crime
of murder by the police captain in whose precinct
the happening occurred, and, no bail being per-
missible in murder cases, he must, perforce, re-
main locked up until his indictment and trial. He
was transferred from the witness room of police
headquarters, the day of the funeral, to the less
pleasant jail, and put in a cell, as were the other
unfortunates of that institution.
Jay Kenneth, Darcy's lawyer, a young member
of the bar, but enthusiastic and a hard worker,
had made a formal entry of a plea of not guilty
for his client, when the latter had been arraigned
before the upper court, and had asked for a
speedy trial.
And so, after the first few days of wonder and
surmise and of speculation as to whether Darcy
or King might have committed the crime, or per-
haps some desperate burglar, the Darcy case was
crowded off the front page of the newspapers to
nev


Grafton's Search
99
give way to items of more or less local interest in
Colchester.
Up and down the narrow cell paced janies
Darcy. His head was bowed, but at times he
raised it to look out through the barred door.
All his eyes encountered, though, was the white-
washed wall opposite him-a bare, white and
glaring wall that made his eyes burn—a wall
that seemed to shut out hope itself—as if it
were not enough that it had been at the very
bottom of Pandora's box.
Up and down, down and up, now pausing to
take his hands from their strained position
clasped behind his back that they might grasp the
cold bars of his cell door-slim white hands that
had set many a gleaming jewel in burnished gold
or cold, glittering platinum, that it might grace
the person of some sweet woman. And now those
white fingers grasped cold steel, and a keeper,
passing up and down on his half-hourly rounds,
wondered, grimly, if they had been stained with
the blood of Mrs. Darcy.
But though the wall blocked his vision, Darcy
saw through and beyond it. He saw the glittering
showcases in the store, with their arrays of cut
glass and silver. He saw the gleaming jewels in
the safe.
He saw, too, the stained and keen paper knife
which the drunken King had swaggered in to


100
The Diamond Cross Mystery
claim that gray morning. He saw the red spot
on the floor—the spot which, even now, in spite
of many scrubbings, was visible to the men
and women who, now that the store was opened
for business again, walked in to select some piece
of gold or silver, some jewel for their own adorn-
ment or that of another.
And the gray-haired woman, whose pride it had
been to display her beautiful wares to her friends
and others, was all alone in a grave far up on
the hill—a hill which looked down on Colches-
ter—which looked down on the very store itself.
All of this James Darcy saw, and more.
There was a brisker step along the flagged cor-
ridor in front of the cells of "murderers' row.”
Half a dozen men, and one woman, against whom
such a charge had been made-Darcy among
them—looked up with an interest they had not
shown before. Did it mean a visitor for any of
them? Did it mean their lawyer was coming to
bid them cheer up, or to tell them it looked black
for their chances?
The step was that of the keeper of the outer
gate—the larger and more massively barred gate
which gave entrance to the anteroom where, on
visiting days, even those charged with the highest
degree of crime were permitted to see their
friends, relatives or counsel.
"Someone to see you, Darcy !" called the
keeper.


Grafton's Search
101
There was the clang of the lock mechanism, and
the door swung open. Darcy's eyes brightened,
those of the others in the same tier of cells with
him which, for the moment had lighted up, grew
dull again.
"My lawyer?” asked Darcy.
"Yes. And there's a lady with him.”
“A lady?”
“Yes. Come on!"
Darcy caught sight of Amy before she saw
him, for he approached from behind a line of
other prisoners exercising in the space before
their cells. She was with Kenneth.
"Amy!” exclaimed Darcy, as he was allowed
to step out into the anteroom, closely followed
by a keeper, while a detective from the prosecu-
tor's office stood near. “Amy!” and his eyes
glowed.
"Jimmie boy!"
To the eternal credit of the keeper and the de-
tective be it said that, at this moment, they found
something of great interest in the calendar that
hung on the opposite wall, while Kenneth talked
earnestly with the warden. And the prisoners
beyond the barred door were too busy with their
exercise to look around.
“Jimmie boy!"
"Amy! You—you don't- "
“Of course I don't! Didn't I tell you so in my
letter?"


102
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Yes, but
“Now, that isn't the way to talk, especially
when I have come to bring you good news.”
"Good news? You mean your father "
"Oh, it isn't about dad! I told you he was as
firm a believer in you as I am—that he said
he'd 'go the limit,' if you know what that means,
to get you free. Jimmie boy, when dad likes a
person he likes him!”
"I hope his daughter does the same."
"Don't you know Jimmie boy?”.
The warden, the detective, the keeper and the
lawyer—all now seemed interested in that prosaic
calendar.
Amy had had but little chance to speak to
Darcy since his arrest. In police headquarters
he was kept in seclusion except as to his lawyer,
and events had followed one another so rapidly
that there had been no other opportunity until now,
though the girl had sent him a hasty note in which
she said she knew he was innocent and that every-
thing possible was being done for him.
:“And now, Jimmie, for the good news. I have
engaged the best detective in this country for
you,” and she beckoned to the lawyer to come
forward.
“The best detective ?”
“Yes. You need one as well as a lawyer.
They're going to work together—aren't you, Mr.
Kenneth ?"


Grafton's Search
103
"Indeed a detective can help us best at this
stage of the game, I think, Mr. Darcy," was the
lawyer's answer. “I can look after the court
proceedings, when it comes time for them, but what
we want most is evidence tending to show that
some one else, and not you, committed this crime.”
"As, most assuredly was the case !" and for the
first time in days Darcy's voice had its old ring
and vigor in it.
"Of course, Jimmie boy," murmured Amy.
"Now let me tell you all about it. They say I
can't stay very long, so I'll have to talk fast, and
you must listen-mostly. Now what do you say
to—Colonel Ashley?" and Amy looked trium-
phantly at her lover.
“Colonel Ashley?”
“Yes. As the detective who is going to help
prove you innocent by discovering the real-ugh!
I hate to say it-murderer?”
“Why, Colonel Ashley is one of the greatest
detectives in the United States—at least, he used
to be. He must be pretty old now."
"I know he is—but not too old to take hold.
Now when he comes—"
“But, Amy, my dear! You can't get him!
Why, he's not only one of the highest-priced de-
tectives in the country, but he's retired I've read,
and I doubt if he'd take a case ”
"He's going to take your case, Jimmie boy!"
and Amy smiled.


104
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“But how-how ”
"I think we'll have to give Miss Mason credit
for a whole lot in this matter," broke in Kenneth.
“She surprised me when she told me. And I
want to say that when the colonel gets going
we'll have you out of here in short order, Mr.
Darcy!"
"But I don't understand "
“That's what I came to tell you about, Jimmie
boy! Now just keep quiet and listen !”
Thereupon Amy went on to relate all that had
happened when she sought out the fisherman at
the trout brook-how she had been cared for by
him and Shag after her faint, and how, after
some persuasion, the great detective had agreed
to take up the matter of seeking out the real
murderer of Mrs. Darcy.
"He came here under a different name," Amy
continued, "for he did not want to be bothered
with work. But Tom-he's the little jockey dad
got a place for as train-boy-met him on the
express and learned that the colonel was the
great detective. Then Tom came and told me
when he read of your-of your- "
"Oh, say arrest, Amy! I'm getting hardened
to it by now."
"Well, then, your-arrest. I hate the word!
Tom came and told me and said we must get
Colonel Brentnall at once. That was the name


Grafton's Search
105
he used, but, now he has consented to take your
case, he's Colonel Ashley again.”
"And what am I to do, Amy?”
"Just what he tells you—nothing more or less.
Tell him everything from the beginning to the
end. All about your quarrel with Mrs. Darcy
-I read in the papers you had one. Was
that so ?”
“Yes, and, I am sorry to say, it was partly
about you."
"I don't mind, Jimmie boy. I know it couldn't
have been very bad.”
"It wasn't. She-well, she sneered at you for
thinking of marrying me--a poor man—and "
"As if money counted, Jimmie boy!" cried the
girl fondly.
"I know. But it angered me, I admit. How-
ever, nothing more came of that. And as for
her finding fault with me about my electric lathe,
and about the money she owed me-well, that
was a sort of periodic disagreement."
“Tell the colonel all about it."
"I will. And are you sure your father "
"Dad's with me in this—with me and you!
He'd have come to see you himself to-day, but
I said I wanted to see you first. He'll be along
soon. So you see, Jimmie boy, things aren't so
bad as they seem, though I hate it that you should
be in this horrible place.”


Grafton's Search
107
Keturning from his fishing trip with the one,
lone specimen, Colonel Ashley, having escorted
Amy Mason to her automobile, went back to the
hotel with Shag.
"I might have known how it would be, Shag,"
he remarked, almost mournfully. “I might have
known I'd run into something when I came here
for rest."
"Dat's right, Colonel. Yo' suah might! But
who does yo's'pect did dish yeah killin'?''
"It's too early yet to tell, Shag, and you know
I don't make any predictions. I want to get a
few more facts.”
This the colonel proceeded to do. First hav-
ing had himself accredited as working in Darcy's
behalf by being introduced by the accused man's
lawyer, the detective paid a visit to the jewelry
store. The place was in charge of Thomas Kett-
ridge, a half uncle to Mrs. Darcy.
The place had been opened for business again
after the funeral, and customers came in, care-
fully avoiding the place where a dark stain could
be seen in the floor-a stain made all the more
conspicuous because of the light-colored boards
about it.
The colonel made a careful examination of the
premises, and had described to him the exact
position of the body, being told all that went on
that tragic morning.


108
The Diamond Cross Mystery
It was after this, and following some busy
hours spent in various parts of the city, that the
detective sent to one of his trusted men in New
York this telegram:
"Spotty Morgan's vacation is over. Have him
spend a few days with you until I can invite him
to my country place.”
"I hate to do it, after what he did for me,”
mused the colonel with a sigh. “But business
is business from now on. I'm officially in the
case, and I wasn't before.”
Having sent the somewhat cryptic message, the
old detective sat in his room and took from his
pocket a little green book.
"Well, old friend, I guess I'm not going to have
much use for you from now on," he remarked
dolefully. He glanced to where his rods and flies
were gathering dust. “Nor you, either,” he went
on. "Now for a last glimpse
He opened the book and read:
“And now I shall tell you that the fishing with
a natural fly is excellent and affords much pleas-
ure."
"It won't do!" ejaculated the colonel as he
closed the book and threw it aside.
One matter puzzled the colonel as well as the
other detectives. There was no sign of the jew-


Grafton's Search
109
elery store having been entered from the outside,
so that if a stranger had come in he must have
done so when the doors were unlocked or made
a false key, or else he had forced a passage so
skilfully as to leave not a sign.
Of course this was possible, and it added to
the inference of some that a burglar, used to
such work, had entered the place, and, being de-
tected at work by Mrs. Darcy, had killed her.
However, there was not so much as a cuff
button missing, as far as could be learned after
the contents of the store had been checked up,
though of course an intruder might have been
frightened off before he had taken anything.
Many of Darcy's friends could not help but
admit that appearances were against him. He and
his cousin had quarreled, somewhat bitterly, over
money, and about his refusal to give up work on
his electric lathe. There was also King's testi-
mony about words over Amy, though Darcy con-
tended that this talk was nothing more than his
relative had indulged in before regarding the un-
suitableness of the match. Darcy admitted re-
senting his cousin's imputation.
All this Colonel Ashley had taken into con-
sideration before he sent the telegram. And, hav-
ing done that, and having had a talk with Darcy
at the jail, as well as a consultation with the
lawyer, having visited Harry King and seen Singa
.


Grafton's Search
111
several in the place. Yet he did not talk with
them, beyond a mere passing of the time of day,
but went about nervously from showcase to
counter and repeated the journey. When Mr.
Kettridge asked him at what he desired to look
he replied there was nothing in particular—that
he had in mind a gift, but, as yet, had decided
on nothing.
"Look about as you please," was the courteous
invitation he received, and the man availed him-
self of it.
Of medium build, yet with the appearance of
having lived more in the open than does the
average man, his face had, yet, a strange pallor
not in keeping with his robust frame. And his
manner was certainly nervous.
"Now what,” mused the colonel to himself, “is
he fishing for?”
That day there was more than the usual num-
ber of people in the store-many of them un-
doubtedly curiosity seekers, who came into price
certain articles ostensibly, but who, really, wanted
to stare at the place where the bloodstains had
been scrubbed away.
And at this spot the robust man stared longer
than did some of the others, the colonel thought.
Did he hope that some spirit of the poor, mur-
dered woman might still be lingering there, to
whisper to him what he sought to learn?


112 The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Who is that man?” asked Colonel Ashley of
Mr. Kettridge, who had often come to the shop
during the holiday seasons to help Mrs. Darcey.
“Oh, that's Mr. Grafton."
“Mr. Grafton? Who is he?”
“Aaron Grafton, one of Colchester's best and
wealthiest citizens. He owns the Emporium.”
"That big department store?”
“Yes. He has built it up from a small estab-
lishment. I have known him a number of years,
and he knew Mrs. Darcy quite well. He often
has purchased diamonds here, though he is not
married, and I don't know that he is engaged
rather late in life, too, for him to be considering
that.”
"Oh, well, you never can tell," and the colonel
smiled.
"So that is Aaron Grafton!” he mused. "Well,
Mr. Grafton, in spite of the well known reputa-
tion you bear, I think you will stand a little
watching. I must not neglect the smallest clew
in a case like this. Yes, decidedly, I think you
will bear watching !"
For at that moment the merchant, after an-
other round of the store, seeking for something
it seemed he could not find, turned and hurried
out, a much-troubled look on his face. Colonel
Ashley followed.


CHAPTER VII
THE COLONEL IS SURPRISED
“THIS,” said Colonel Ashley to himself, as he
glided rapidly along the street, "is very much like
old times—very much! I never expected to do
any shadowing again. What's that Walton says
about man proposing and Providence disposing?
Or was it Walton? I must look it up. Mean-
while”
Continuing his musing, and with a satisfied
smile on his face, a smile that might indicate that
the colonel was not so very much averse to giving
over his fishing for the time being to take up his
profession once more, he followed Aaron Grafton
as the merchant left the jewelry store.
“I wonder," mused the colonel, "what his ob-
ject was in coming to the Darcy 'place, and nosing
around as he did? There must have been some
object. A man such as he is doesn't do things
like that for fun. And it wasn't mere curiosity,
either. If it was, he'd have been at the place be-
fore, when the evidences of the crime were there
to be stared at by those who care for such things.
"And that Aaron Grafton hasn't been there
113


114
The Diamond Cross Mystery
since I was forced into this thing, I'm positive.
For I was forced into it,” grumbled the old de-
tective. “I just couldn't resist the pleading of
her eyes. It isn't the first time a man has made
a fool of himself over a woman, and it won't be
the last. But maybe I'll make fools of some of
these folks, instead of being made a fool of my-
self. Fooled out of my fishing though. By gad!
that's what I have been!
"But no matter. I must see what friend Aaron
is up to and what his little game is. Of course,
he may have been at the store the day of the
murder-before I arrived. I must ask Darcy
about that. Poor lad, he's in tough luck—just
when he ought to be thinking of getting married.
Well, I'll do what I can."
There were few tricks known to modern detec-
tives of which Colonel Ashley was not master,
among them being the ability to disguise himself-
not by clumsy beards and false moustaches,
though he used them at times—but by a few
simple alterations to his face and carriage.
Of course costume played its part when needed,
but the time had not yet come for that. He was
now following Grafton without the latter being
aware of it-no very difficult matter in a city the
size of Colchester, and on one of its main streets.
"I think I want to know a little more about
him," mused the colonel. "I'd like to have a talk


The Colonel is Surprised
115
with him, and see how he acts. But I won't
chance that yet. I'll play 'possum for a while."
Having followed his man to the latter's store,
and even inside it, where he made a trifling pur-
chase, and having seen Mr. Grafton enter his pri-
vate office, the detective paid a visit to Darcy in
the jail.
"How is she, Colonel?” were the first words of
the prisoner, when they were in the warden's
office with a detective from the prosecutor's office
seated a few chairs away. It was only under
such arrangements that visitors were allowed to
see the jewelry worker. "How is Amy?”
well, the last I saw of her. But
I came to talk about something else."
"I suppose so. This horrible affair. But she
still believes in me, doesn't she?” he asked eagerly.
"As much so as I do, my boy!"
"Thank God for that! I don't know what I'd
do if she went back on me! I wouldn't want to
live !"
“Tush! Nonsense! Don't get sentimental!"
"I can't help it, Colonel. But as long as Amy
thinks I didn't do this horrible thing_and God
knows I didn't—and as long as you believe in me-
why I can stand it. Maybe it won't be for long."
"Well, there's no use buoying you up with false
hopes, Darcy. You'll probably be here all sum-
mer.”


116
· The Diamond Cross Mystery
"I shan't mind if I'm proved innocent at last"
"I hope we can manage that all right.”
"Then you do believe in me, Colonel ?”
“Of course I do! Otherwise, I wouldn't take
up your case. Now don't talk too much. I want
to ask you a few questions. Answer them, and
as briefly as possible. I'll get you out of here as
soon as I can. If I hadn't been as slow as a carp
I might have the right man here now in your
place.”
“What do you mean, Colonel?”
"Eh? What's that? Did I say anything?"
and the detective seemed roused from a reverie,
for he had spoken his last remarks in a low
voice.
“You spoke about a carp—the right man—"
"Oh, I–I was just thinking of something in
Walton. Never mind me. It's a bad habit I've
been acquiring lately of thinking aloud. Now to
business !” and the colonel drew some papers from
his pocket.
Darcy looked at his new friend in some surprise.
Certainly the colonel had spoken as though he
might, at one time, have had a chance to get the
"right man.” Did that mean the real murderer?
Darcy shook his head. His nerves were begin-
ning to go back on him he feared.
"Do you know Aaron Grafton?” asked the
colonel.


The Colonel is Surprised
117
"Oh, yes,” replied Darcy. “Every one in town
knows him as one of the prominent merchants.”
“Was he at the store the day of the—the day
Mrs. Darcy was killed ?”.
"I don't remember. So many things happened
there were so many in the place. As I think back,
though, I don't remember seeing him.”
"Very good. Did he ever do any business with
you—I mean buy anything in the store?”
"Why yes, I think very possibly he might.
Most every one of prominence in Colchester, at
one time or another, has made purchases in our
store—some more, some less. No particular pur-
chase made by Grafton stands out in my mind,
however."
"How about having his watch repaired ?"
"I'd remember, I think, if I had fixed his watch.
I'm sure I didn't. He has a fine one, for I've seen
him stop in front of our window and compare his
time with our chronometer.”
"I see. Now another matter. Can you, in any
way, account for the fact that so many of the
clocks in the store-clocks that, as I understand it,
ordinarily go for many days stopped at different
hours the night of the killing? Can you explain
that?"
Somewhat to the surprise of the colonel Darcy
was silent for a moment. Then the young man
slowly answered:


118
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“No. No, I can't explain it. I don't know
what did it."
"Well, then I'll have to fish on that alone, I
guess. I thought you, knowing a lot about clock-
works, might have some explanation. You know
most of the timepieces were stopped-all of them,
in fact, except the watch in your cousin's hand ?”
"Yes, I remarked that at the time. That watch
was going.”
“Yes, so you told me-you thought it was her
heart beating.”
“I wish, oh, how I wish, it had been !" exclaimed
Darcy in tones of despair. "If it had been I
wouldn't be here. But it's too late to think of that
now."
"Do you happen to know what became of that
watch—the one in her hand ? It belonged to an
East Indian, you said.”
"Yes, to Singa Phut. I was to make one little
adjustment in it for him, and he was to come in
early to get it. It wasn't much. The hair spring,
I think, had become caught up and it ran very
fast. I planned to do it the night before, but the
light was too poor. So I made up my mind to
get up early and attend to it. But I never got the
chance. No, I don't recall what happened to that
watch. I suppose the detectives have it."
“The prosecutor did take it, but Singa Phut has
it now."


120 The Diamond Cross Mystery
though you had lost every last friend you had in
the world—”
“It's all right, Colonel. Tell her you saw me
laughing !” and Darcy did manage to utter what
might pass for a laugh. It was a good attempt.
“Good! That's better, though there's room
for improvement," said the detective. “Now,
I'll leave you. I have lots to do."
"I'm sorry, Colonel, to put you to all this
trouble-
"Pooh! Now I'm in it there's no trouble that's
too much. I'll get about the same fun out of this
as I would if I fished—and I'll fish with greater
enjoyment later on—when I've cleared you.”
"I hope you do, Colonel. And if there's any-
thing I can do—”
“Thanks, but Miss Mason has already arranged
to have me whip her father's trout stream when
this case is over, and that's reward enough for me.
Now, sir, one last word to you!" and the colonel
assumed the military appearance that so well be-
fitted him. “Stop worrying!"
"I'll try, Colonel !”
"Don't try—do it.”
"One question."
"Well, one only. What is it?
“Do you think Mr. Grafton—"
The detective smiled and shook his finger at
Darcy.


The Colonel is Surprised
121
"You just let me do the thinking!” he advised
as he turned to go out.
Colonel Ashley spent two busy days, most of his
time being given over to investigating Aaron Graf-
ton. And the more he saw of that gentleman the
more the detective became convinced that the mer-
chant knew something of the crime.
"I wouldn't admit, even to myself,” mused the
colonel, “that he had a hand in it, or that he was
an accessory before or after. But he certainly
knows something about it, and enough to make
him worry. That's what Aaron Grafton is doing-
worrying. And he's worrying about something
that ought to be in the jewelry shop and isn't.
Now, what is it?"
This, very evidently, was something for Colonel
Ashley to discover, and with all his skill he set
himself to this task. For the time being he
dropped several other ends—tangled ends of the
skein he hoped to unravel--and devoted his time
to Grafton. And, at the end of two days the
detective learned that the merchant was going to
make a hurried trip to New York-a trip not
directly connected with his store, for those trips
were made at other times of the year.
"Well, if he goes to New York I go too!” said
the colonel grimly.
And he went, on the same train with Aaron
Grafton, though unknown to the latter.


122
The Diamond Cross Mystery
It was a skilful bit of shadowing the detective
did on the journey to the metropolis, so skilful
that, though the merchant plainly showed by his
nervousness that he thought he might have been
followed, he did not, seemingly, suspect the quiet
man seated not far from him, reading a little
green book. The colonel had adopted a simple
but effective disguise.
In New York, which was reached early in the
morning, after a night journey, the colonel again
took up the trail, keeping near his man.
"Follow that taxi,” the colonel ordered the
driver of his machine as it rolled out of the
Pennsylvania station, just a few lengths behind the
one in which Grafton rode.
The following was well done, and, a little later
the two machines drew up in front of the big
office building in which Colonel Ashley had his
headquarters.
"Whew!" whispered the follower of Izaak
Walton, “I wonder if he came here to consult
my agency?"
All doubts were dissolved a moment later
when, keeping somewhat in the background, the
detective heard the merchant ask the elevator
starter on which floor were the offices of Colonel
Ashley's detective agency.
"He does want to see me!” excitedly thought
the colonel. "What in the world for? This is


The Colonel is Surprised
123
getting interesting! I've got to do a little fine
work now. He must never suspect, at least for
a while, that I have been in Colchester."
Next to the elevator in which Aaron Grafton
rode up was another.
"Tom, you're an express for the time being !"
whispered the colonel to the operator. “There's
a man headed for my offices, and I must get in
ahead of him. Here's a dollar !"
"I get you, Colonel! Shoot!"
And the car shot up with speed enough to
cause the colonel to gasp, used as he was to rapid
motion.
He had just time to slide into his quarters by
a rear and private door, to make certain changes
in his appearance and be calmly sitting at his
desk smoking a cigar when his clerk brought in
the card of Aaron Grafton.
"Tell him to come in," said the colonel, more
and more surprised at the turn affairs were tak-
ing. "I'll see this man myself," he continued,
speaking to the man into whose hands he had put
the general direction of the agency. “Say to Mr.
Grafton," he said, turning to the clerk, "that
Colonel Ashley will see him in a moment."


CHAPTER VIII
THE DIAMOND CROSS
“COLONEL ASHLEY?" There was a formal,
questioning note in the merchant's voice.
"That is my name, yes, sir. Er-Mr. Grafton,"
and, as though to refresh his memory, the colonel
glanced at the card on his desk.
"You are a private detective?"
“Yes."
Mr. Grafton was evidently sparring for time.
He seemed uneasy—he looked uneasy, and it re-
quired no very astute mind to know that he was
uneasy-out of his element.
"For all the world like a gasping fish on the
bank," was the simile the colonel used.
"I have a case I wish you would take up for
me," went on the merchant. “It is somewhat
peculiar.”
"Most cases that come to us are," and the
colonel smiled.
"And it is delicate.”
"I could say that of nearly every one, also."
“So that I may rely on your silence and-er-
discretion?”
124


The Diamond Cross
125
“Sir!"
The colonel fairly bristled.
"I beg your pardon! I should not have asked
that. But I am all upset over this matter."
"Then, sir, let me ease your mind by stating
that whatever you tell me will be in strict confi-
dence, as far as lies in my power to so observe
it. I can not compound a felony, so if you have
in mind the disclosure of anything that would in-
criminate you—”
"Incriminate me?”
“Yes, or involve you in any way. If you have
anything like that in mind please don't tell me
about it. I should feel obliged to make use of my
knowledge. But if it is a matter in which you
wish my advice, then—".
"I certainly do need advice, Colonel. I have
often heard you spoken of, and I have read of
more than one of your cases. So when I got
in this—well, I may as well call it trouble—I at
once thought of you. I am fortunate, I believe,
in seeing Colonel Ashley, himself, who, I under-
stood, had retired, or perhaps is about to retire.
I came here prepared to pay any reasonable
amount," and the merchant drew out his wallet.
The colonel held up a protesting hand.
"Please don't-not yet,” he said. “I can not
accept a retaining fee until I have heard more of
your case. It may be that I can not serve you.


126
The Diamond Cross Mystery
Give me some inkling of what you want. I hope
you are not in serious trouble.”
"It is serious—for me.”
"Then I hope I can help you. Please be as
frank as you think best. The franker you are,
the fewer questions I shall have to ask. Go on.”
"Well then, I want to find a certain valuable
diamond cross.”
"A diamond cross?".
“Yes. I don't know just what it is worth, but
I believe a small fortune."
"And was it stolen from you?”
"No. Though I do own a store where jewelry
is sold, we don't carry an expensive line. This
cross belonged to a friend of mine. She had it on
when we were out walking together, and—well,
it became damaged and I asked her to let me take
it to have it repaired.”
"Nothing very complicated or troublesome in
that. I suppose the cross was stolen from you
while it was temporarily in your possession, and
you don't like to let your friend know, for fear
she may suspect you. Such things have happened.
Did you ever read de Maupassant's 'Diamond
Necklace?'”
“I never did.”
"I'd advise you to. Also Walton."
"Is he a jeweler?”
“Lord, no! But I beg your pardon. Let us


The Diamond Cross
127
keep to the subject. So you don't dare tell your
friend the diamond cross is gone?”
"Oh, yes, she knows it.”
“Then why the worry, except about getting it
back?”
"Well, there are complications. You see her
husband—”
“Oh, ho!”
There was a world of meaning in that ex-
clamation. Aaron Grafton turned a deep red and
bit his lips. Colonel Ashley saw his annoyance.
"Look here !” exclaimed the old detective. "I
really shouldn't have said that. But we detec-
tives are used to all sorts of complications, and,
more than once, they have to do with women.
Often enough there is nothing more serious than
a little indiscretion, but I can see where out-
siders might make trouble-particularly husbands.
I take it then that you and the lady were out
together without her husband knowing it.”
"I hope he doesn't know of it, for though, on
my honor, there was nothing wrong in our being
together, it might be hard to make him believe
that.”
"I quite agree with you—particularly if he
were jealous, as many husbands are. So you
want me to try to get this diamond cross, belong-
ing to the married lady, back for you without her
husband knowing anything about it ?”


128 The Diamond Cross Mystery
“That's it!"
"Where were you when you were robbed of it?”
"I wasn't robbed of it. I never said I was."
“Oh, I beg your pardon. I must have inferred
that. Please go on, and, if you don't mind my
asking you, kindly get to the point.”
"I beg your pardon. Perhaps I am beating
about the bush. Well, I'll be as frank as I can.
Do you want me to give names?"
“It would be better, since I already know
yours. I shall keep them in strict confidence,
however, now that I am fairly well assured there
is no ulterior motive in your visit to me. Pro-
ceed."
"Well, then, the diamond cross, which is worth
I don't know how many thousand dollars, belongs
to Mrs. Cynthia Larch, the wife of Langford
Larch, who keeps a large hotel in—".
“Colchester! I know the place. Go on!” in-
terruped Colonel Ashley. “I have stopped there
on fishing trips," he added, as his caller looked a
bit surprised.
“Oh, I didn't know that. Well, this was Mrs.
Larch's cross. It is a family heirloom I believe,
though many suppose her husband gave it to her
for a wedding present. That is not so, however.
I know Cynthia had the cross before she was
married."
“You call her Cynthia ?”


The Diamond Cross
129
"I have kown her since we were both children."
“I see. Pray go on."
"In fact we were sweethearts," continued Graf-
ton, “and were engaged. But the match was
broken off by her father. I was only a struggling
clerk then, and never dreamed I would get on as
I have. Nor did she, I fancy, though she was
willing to take me as I was. But her folks
made trouble. They brought such pressure to
bear on her that she gave in and married Larch,
who was and is wealthy, but whose social posi-
tion was beneath hers.
"Don't think I am telling you this out of
mere jealousy," Aaron Grafton went on, and his
manner was earnest. "I loved her deeply and
sincerely. I do yet, but in a way that is perfectly
right. I have not told her so—but,” He was
silent a moment.
"I went away after she threw me over," he
resumed. “I couldn't stand it to be near her
and see her going out-with him. But I came
back. Though the old wound still hurt, I tried
not to let her see. We became friends again
in fact we had never ceased to be friends.
"Perhaps I have acted foolishly, but, of late,
I have seen her quite often. I began to feel that
her married life was not happy. I took pains to
enquire, and learned that it was not. I tried to
make her a little happier by talking to her. Once


130
The Diamond Cross Mystery
or twice she met me and we walked together in
the woods."
The colonel looked sharply at his caller.
“Oh, for God's sake don't put any wrong con-
struction on it! I'd give my very life to make
her happy, and do you think I'd—”
"I don't doubt you for a moment, sir !".
“Thank you,” said Mr. Grafton. “It is good
to know that there is still some truth and honor
in the world and that a man and woman can be
friends though the circumstances seem peculiar."
He paused a moment to overcome his emotion
and resumed:
"Well, Cynthia and I are friends—good friends.
It was to talk over what course was best for her
to pursue under certain circumstances that she
and I walked out together. We went in secret,
for there are gossiping and wagging tongues in
Colchester as elsewhere, and if I, the leading
merchant in the town, was seen to be alone with
pretty Cynthia Larch, whose husband was a friend
of judges and politicians who frequent his hotel,
there would be talk little short of scandal.”
"I quite agree with you. So you walked in
secret?"
“Yes. And it was while we were out to-
gether that the cross she was wearing became
unfastened and fell. I most clumsily, stepped on
it, greatly marring the setting.


The Diamond Cross
131
“She was distressed, of course, but I said I
would take it to a jeweler's and have it repaired
without any one being the wiser. She agreed
that was best. So I took it-”.
"To Mrs. Darcy's place, and she was found
murdered !” broke in the old detective quickly.
Aaron Grafton started from his chair.
"How in the name of Heaven did you know
that?” he cried. “I thought that not a soul but
I knew it. I did not even tell Cynthia !”
“The explanation is simple," said the colonel.
"I will be almost as frank with you as you have
been with me. I know more about you than you
think. Wait a moment.”
The colonel stepped into a closet. He made a
few rapid changes in his clothing and took off a
tiny bit of eyebrow, which had been added to his
own a short time before. Then he confronted
the merchant.
“The man I saw in the jewelry store !” gasped
Grafton. “I remember, now, seeing you there the
day I went to look for the diamond cross.”
"And didn't find it," said the detective. "I
wondered what so perturbed you, but now I know.
At first I did think you might know something of
the murder-”
“God forbid !" said the merchant earnestly and
reverently.
“Amen!" echoed the colonel. “You have told


132
The Diamond Cross Mystery
such a straightforward story that I can not doubt
you. That is why I revealed myself to you. But
you must keep my secret if I am to help you. I
am known in Colchester as Colonel Brentnall,
having registered at the hotel under that name.
I will keep that name for the present. I followed
you here—in fact, I only entered this office a
minute or two ahead of you. So it was to find
the diamond cross you visited the store of the
murdered woman?”
“Yes. When I had damaged the cross by step-
ping on it, I thought my old friend, Mrs. Darcy,
would be the best one to keep my secret. I took
the cross to her the night before she was killed,
and she promised to have her cousin fix it without
telling him whose it was and get it back to me,
secretly, in a day or so.
"I thought Cynthia could then wear it again
without her husband knowing it had ever been out
of her possession. But the murder changed all
my plans. As soon as I could, I went to the shop
to look for the cross. I thought perhaps it might
have been put in one of the showcases, or laid on
the shelf, perhaps forgotten. Really I was so
distressed, I didn't know what to think. I did not
want to tell any one what I was looking for, so I
went about quietly. But I could not find it. Then
I was obliged to ask Darcy about it, secretly, of
course, and without hinting as to the ownership.


The Diamond Cross
133
“But he had never seen it. He said Mrs. Darcy
had not given it to him, nor asked him to repair
it. Nor was it in the shop, as far as he knew,
and he went over all the stock to furnish a list to
the police, so they could tell whether or not there
had been a robbery.".
“And there was none?"
"None, unless you call the taking of the diamond
cross a theft. For that alone is missing. And
I'd give half my fortune to get it back. Cyn-
thia's husband may ask about it at any moment,
and what excuse can she give?”
"It is rather a ticklish matter,” agreed the detec-
tive. “Well, I'll see what I can do. First I
thought you wanted me to work on the murder
case. But as I am already engaged on that, to
try to clear Darcy, I can as well include the dia-
mond cross mystery also. I wonder if they have
any connection.”
"I don't see how they can have. Mrs. Darcy
may merely have put the cross away secretly, and
it may take a careful search of the place to find
it."
“Maybe so. I'll have to nose around a bit.”
There came a knock on the office door.
“Come!” called out the colonel.
His clerk handed him a telegram. Tearing it
open the detective read a message from one of his
agents in a distant western city: It said:


134
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Spotty Morgan arrested here to-day. Big
diamond cross found on him. Do you want
him?"
"Do I want him?" fairly yelled the colonel. "I
should say I did! Here, get me Blake on the long
distance. This is no time for a wire. I've got to
telephone!” And he hurried to a private booth
in a back office, leaving Grafton to himself.
After he had telephoned, Colonel Ashley sat in
silence in the booth, musing.
"Now I wonder," he said to himself, “if Graf-
ton is telling me the truth. Almost any one would
believe his story—it sounds straight enough-and
yet I can't take any chances. I guess I mustn't
lose sight of you, Aaron Grafton.
"And perhaps Larch isn't so bad a chap as you'd
have me believe. Trust a disgruntled lover for
saying the worst about the other chap. Yes, I
can't afford to take any chances. You may know
a bit more about this murder than you're telling
me, even considering the latest from my friend
Spotty. Yes, you may be playing a double game,
Mr. Aaron Grafton.”


CHAPTER IX
INDICTED
"Well, Spotty, I've got to hand it to you!
Certainly you did put one over on me!"
"Not intentional, Colonel. So help me—not in-
tentional!”
"Well, maybe not, but I've got to hand it to
you. If I didn't know that slip of mine in front
of the truck was pure accident, I'd say you staged
it just to make a good get-away.”
"I couldn't do that, Colonel.”
"I don't know, Spotty. You're a clever kid."
“But I couldn't do that. I was on the level in
saving you. You've got to give me credit for
that,” pleaded the gunman.
"I know you were, Spotty. And that's why I
gave you a chance to get away. But I never
thought it was for a job like this—murder."
"And it wasn't, Colonel-it wasn't! So help
me, I never laid eyes on the old lady-dead or
alive! Murder? I should say not!"
"Then how did you get that diamond cross?
Answer me!"
135


136
TOSS
The Diamond Cross Mystery
Colonel Ashley, with a dramatic gesture, pointed
to the glittering ornament that lay on the table
between him and the New York crook. The
stones glittered in the electric lights of police
headquarters, for it was there, in the distant city,
that this talk took place.
Confirming over the long distance telephone the
news given in his agent's telegram, Colonel Ash-
ley, without having revealed to Grafton what new
development had occurred, had made a quick trip
to Lango, where Spotty, in response to a quiet
but general alarm sent out, had been arrested.
A diamond cross had been found in his pos-
session, and was bent and flattened-crushed by
some heavy foot—though all the stones were in-
tact.
Spotty admitted that the ornament might be
the very one wanted, but he absolutely refused
to tell how he had come by it. He was most
emphatic, however, in denying that he had taken
it from Mrs. Darcy, or that he had even seen her
or been to her store.
“I'm a bad man, Colonel, you know that, and
maybe if I was to go to the chair-or the rope,
according to where I was caught-I wouldn't be
getting any more than was comin' to me. But,
so help me, I never croaked that old lady!"
“Then how did you get that cross?”
"I won't tell you!"


Indicted
137
"I'll inake you, Spotty!" and there was a dan-
gerous glint in the eyes of the colonel.
“You can't!" defied the crook. “There ain't
a man livin' that can! Go on with your third de-
gree if you want to!” he sneered. “But for every
blow you strike-for every hour you keep me
awake when I'm dead for sleep-you'll be sorry,
Colonel! You'll be sorry when you think of what
might have happened back there in Colchester!"
"Spotty, you're right!” faltered the colonel.
“I almost wish you hadn't saved me. I've got to
do my duty! I've got to break you if need be,
Spotty, to get at the truth. I want to know who
killed Mrs. Darcy and where you got that cross!
I want to know, and, by gad! I'm going to
know !”
“Not from me, Colonel! I never saw the old
lady, dead or alive, and I never knew until just
now when you told me, that she'd ever had this
cross."
“Who gave it to you?"
“Colonel, did you ever know me to split on a
pal unless he split first?”.
“No, Spotty. I never did.”
"Well, then, you stand a fine chance in getting
me to do it now. Go to it if you like. I'm
through spielin' !" and the crook turned away with
an air of indifference.
The colonel knew that Spotty never would tell,


138
The Diamond Cross Mystery
until he wanted to, but it did not deter him. He
"went at” Spotty. What happened in the quiet
room, near the police headquarter cells, need not
form part of this record. Enough to say that
when they let Spotty go staggering back to his
dungeon, a wreck of a man physically and men-
tally for the time being, he had not told.
And the glittering stones in the crushed cross
were not more silent than he in his misery-de-
served perhaps, but none the less misery
And when the colonel, rather upset himself by
what he had been forced to go through, started
back for Colchester, he took with him the memory
of Spotty's rather sneering face and the echo of
his words:
"Well, Colonel, I didn't tell!"
And he had not. The diamond cross still kept
its mystery.
Colonel Ashley fumed, fretted, and fidgeted
until he was on the verge of a sleepless night on
his way back in the train. Then he bethought
himself of his little green book, and he read:
"You are to know, then, that there is a night
as well as a day fishing for a trout, and that in
the night the best trout come out of their holes."
"Ah, ha,” mused the colonel. “I think I shall
have to do a little night fishing.”
So saying, having read a little farther in his
Izaak Walton, he went peacefully to his berth


Indicted
139
and awoke calmer and himself again.
But if the colonel felt refreshed on reaching Col-
chester, it was not because he felt that he was
in a fair way to solve the problem—or, rather, the
many problems connected with the Darcy murder.
"It's worse tangled than before,” mused the old
detective. "I wonder if Grafton- No, it couldn't
be. But I must have a talk with his friend Cyn-
thia. Ticklish business when a man goes out
walking with a married woman and steps on her
cross. There are complications and complications.
I wonder when I'll begin to unravel some of
them?”
For reasons of his own, the colonel said noth-
ing to the police or county authorities in Colches-
ter about the arrest of Spotty, nor did he mention
that, nor the finding of the diamond cross, to
Darcy or Grafton. He wanted to be sure of his
ground before he told of this end of the affair.
"I wish I knew what to make of Grafton,"
mused the colonel. "His share in it-if share he
had—is getting more complicated. Can he and
Spotty be up to some trick between them and did
the gunman get away with the cross? It wouldn't
be the first time Spotty had hired out his services
to a man who wanted something desperate done!
Now in this case, Grafton may have wanted some-
thing from Mrs. Darcy she wasn't willing to do.
In that case-"


Indicted
141
A day or so after his return from the West,
the colonel made a close examination of the shop.
Just what he was looking for he hardly knew, but
he was quite surprised when he discovered, con-
nected with the main lighting wires of the store,
other wires which ran to various places in the
shelves and the show windows, where many of
the clocks stood.
"I wonder if that's a new kind of burglar
alarm,” thought the colonel. "If it is, it's the
first time I've ever seen one hooked up to the
electric light circuit. A bad thing in case of a
short circuit. A person might get a shock that
would knock him down and—”.
Something seemed to give the colonel a new
idea. He made a hurried examination of the wires
and then left the store, to be seen a little later at
the establishment of an electrician, where he stayed
some time.
It was late that afternoon, when the papers, in
extra editions, announced the indictment of James
Darcy for the murder of his cousin.
When Colonel Ashley returned to his hotel from
the electrician's, he found Amy Mason waiting for
him.
"Oh, Colonel! isn't this dreadful?” she ex-
claimed, holding out a paper. “It's so-50—"
“Tut, tut! my dear young lady, this is noth-


142
The Diamond Cross Mystery
ing! It is only a little shoot on the main stem.
Don't let it distress you. It was to be expected.”
"I know! But it sounds so dreadful! Before,
he was only suspected, even though formally
charged. Now it seems as if he were found
guilty!"
"Far from it. The only evidence against him,
just as it has been all along, is circumstantial.
They have yet to prove anything, and I don't
believe they can. Cheer up! I'll get him off yet!”
"Are you sure, Colonel ?” and her eyes were
bright with unshed tears.
"Sure? Why, of course I am!”
And yet the colonel had to force himself a bit
to make that sound natural. Perhaps it was be-
cause he had said it so often and was tired.
Or did it have anything to do with the strange
wires that led to the work table of James Darcy?


CHAPTER X
THE DEATH WATCH
Doctor WARREN, the county physician, stop-
ping in at police headquarters, as he often did on
returning from his round of private visits, to see
if there were any official calls for him, encountered
Detective Carroll.
"Hello, Doc!" was the genial greeting, for Doc-
tor Warren was more than a physician. He was a
politician, and politics and the police were no more
divorced in Colchester than elsewhere. “Seen
that colonel guy to-day?" asked Carroll.
"The colonel guy?” The doctor's voice showed
his puzzlement.
"Yes, the chap that's working with Kenneth on
the Darcy case.”
“Seen him? No, I haven't.”
"He was here looking for you a little while
ago. Seemed quite anxious about meeting you.
Here he is now. Say, if he lets out anything we
can use against Darcy—you know, legitimate stuff
-pass it on to me and Thong, will you? You
know we've got to go on the stand, and, between
you and me, our case ain't any too strong.'
143


The Death Watch
145
“Can you tell which killed her?”
"I should say the stab wound, but I can not be
positive. You understand, Colonel, that I am to
go on the stand for the prosecution and tell all
I know about this case.”
"Oh, yes, I realize that, of course. You are
practically a witness against Darcy. And I don't,
for one moment, wish you to think that I am
trying to get advance information to use in his
favor. This is simply in the matter of justice,
the ends of which I know you wish to serve, as
I do myself. So if I ask anything improper
please stop me. But since you will testify about
these wounds, and since you have already pretty
well described them to the newspaper reporters,
it can do no harm to repeat the details to me.”
“None in the least, Colonel.”
"Then you feel sure the stab wound killed her?"
"Reasonably so. Of course, as I said, either
blow could have caused death, but blows on the
head, even when the skull is badly fractured, as in
this case, do not invariably cause death instantly.
In fact the victim usually lingers for several hours
in an unconscious state. Not so, however, in the
case of a stab wound in or near the heart. That is
almost always fatal within a short space of time
a minute or two. So, while it is possible that
Mrs. Darcy was first stunned by a blow on the
head, which eventually would have killed her, I


The Death Watch
147
came of him?" the doctor asked of Detective Car-
roll, who had strolled out of the detectives' pri-
vate room and was listening to the conversation.
"Oh, that gink? He made a big howl about
getting back his watch, and as he had a perfectly
good alibi, and we could fasten nothing on him,
we give it back to him and told him to beat it.
He did, I guess.”
"No, he is still in town,” said Colonel Ashley. "I
passed his place a while ago. He has a pair of
beautiful Benares candlesticks, in the form of
hooded cobra snakes, that I want to get. Singa
Phut is still in town.”
"Does that answer all your questions, Colonel?”
inquired Dr. Warren. "I'll tell you all I can, in
reason, but if —”
"Thank you! You've told me all I cared to
know. I have some theories I want to work on,
and I'm not sure how they'll turn out."
"I s'pose you think Darcy didn't do this job,”
cut in Carroll, rather sneeringly.
"I'm positive he didn't, sir !" and the colonel
drew himself up and looked uncompromisingly at
the headquarters detective. "If I thought he had
done it, I would not be associated with his case.”
"You're going to have a sweet job proving he
didn't do it,” laughed the officer.
“Maybe," assented the colonel unruffled.
"Who else could have croaked her?” pursued


148
The Diamond Cross Mystery
Carroll. "Here he goes and has a quarrel with
the old lady just before he goes to bed. He's
sore at her because he thinks she's keeping back
part of his coin. Then he's sore because she made
some cracks about his girl-that's enough to get
any man riled. I don't blame Darcy for going off
his nut. But he shouldn't have croaked the old
lady. He done it all right, and we got the goods
on him! You'll see !"
"Well, it's your business, of course yours and
that of the prosecutor-to prove him guilty," said
the colonel. “And you can't quarrel with me if
I try to prove him innocent."
"Sure not, Colonel. Every man's got to earn
his bread and butter somehow. Only I hate to see
you kid yourself along believing this guy didn't
do the job. He done it, I tell you!"
"Maybe," half assented the colonel. "Thank
you, Dr. Warren. We shall meet again,” and,
with a military salute, the colonel went out of
police headquarters. As he descended the steps he
silently mused:
"I wonder what Carroll and Thong would say if
they knew about the diamond cross, and heard
that Spotty Morgan had it? I guess they would
change some of their theories then. Which re-
minds me that I have more irons in the fire than
I suspected. I must not lose sight of Cynthia.
She will be getting anxious about her diamonds,


150
The Diamond Cross Mystery
come heah, not t trouble yo'wif any detective
news, but,"
"Oh, that was before I got mixed up in this
Darcy case, Shag. The prohibition is off, so to
speak. If you have any news”
"No, sah, Colonel, 'tisn't 'bout po' ole Miss
Darcy-leastways not much about her. But dere's
been annudder murder in town.”
“Another murder ?”
“Yes, Colonel. Boys on de streets yellin' extry
papers now, all 'bout de murder."
"Who is it? Where? When did it happen?"
“Jest 'bout a hour ago. It's a man—a Indian
man whut kept a curiosity shop-de same place
where yo' an' me was lookin' at dem funny
snake candlesticks las' week.”
"Singa Phut's place? Great Scott, Shag! You
don't mean to tell me, he's killed, do you?"
"No, sah, Colonel! Dat Mr. Phut ain't killed.
It's his partner. He's got a funny name, too.
Heah, I done brought yo' a paper," and Shag
pulled out an extra from under his vest, where
he had carefully kept it concealed until he had
made sure of his master's frame of mind.
The colonel scanned the front page with its
black type eagerly. Surely enough, there had
been a murder. Shere Ali, Singa Phut's partner,
had been found lying on the floor of the little
curiosity shop with his head crushed in.


The Death Watch
151
"And in the dead man's hand was a ticking
watch," read the colonel.
For a moment he stared at the words. Then a
light seemed to come over his face. He crushed
the paper in his hand, and then spread it out to
read again the startling news, while he murmured:
“The watch of death !”


CHAPTER XI
NO ALIMONY
"SHAG!” exclaimed the colonel.
“Yes, sah!”
"We're going fishing tomorrow!"
"Is we, Colonel? Den I s'pects yo'll want t'
git,”
“Get everything ready, yes. We'll go again to
that place where Miss Mason found me. There's
as good fish in that stream as any I didn't catch,
and I want to try my luck."
"Yes, sah, Colonel. But, scuse me, didn't yo,
figger on doin' some detectin' an' give up fishin'?”
and Shag, with the freedom of an old servant,
stood looking at his master as if not quite under-
standing the new twist the affairs had taken.
"That's all right, Shag. You do as I tell you.
I'm going off fishing. I may not catch anything
I may not want to after I get there. But for a
quiet place to think, give me a fishing excursion
every time! And I've got to do some tall think-
ing now. Get ready, Shag!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel !"
And, having put himself in a fair way, as he
152


No Alimony
155
“In a way, yes. I'm working in the interests of
the young man. But I hear you have another mur-
der.”
“Yes, but it's so plain there's no interest in it
for you. All we want to do Pinkus and me—is
to lay our hands on the Dago that done it and
got away. We'll get him, too, before many days.
He's the kind of a feller that can't hide very well,
unless he goes and kills himself, and he may do
that.”
"How did it happen? And is there any truth
in the newspaper story about the same watch that
was found in Mrs. Darcy's hand being found in
the hand of the dead man?"
“Yes, that part's true enough, but that's all
there is to it. It's just one of them coincidences
like. Singa Phut got back his watch after the
prosecutor decided he didn't need it for evidence.
There wasn't nothing that Singa had to do with
the Darcy case anyhow, and he seemed awful
anxious to get back that watch. So it was turned
over to him.”
"But did he really kill his partner?”
"Surest thing you know. Busted his head in
with a heavy candlestick-one of a pair. I've got
'em here, look," and, opening a closet where he
temporarily kept his collection of evidence, Dono-
van took out a pair of heavy bronze candlesticks,
in the form of hooded cobras.


156
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“That's the one that did the business," said the
headquarters detective, showing one candlestick
with something dark and unpleasant on the heavier
end.
“Gad !” exclaimed the colonel. “The very pair
I was going to buy!”
“What! You buy?” cried Donovan. “Look
here, Colonel! do you know anything about this?”
and the detective's professional instincts got the
upper hand of his friendliness.
"Not the least in the world—not as much as you
do," was the cool answer. "I happened to see
those candlesticks in the window of Singa Phut's
shop the other day, and I made up my mind to
buy them when I had a chance. Now, I'm afraid
I won't. But how did it happen?”
"Oh, well, there isn't much of a story to it,"
and Donovan's voice showed his disappointment.
“Phut-I don't know whether that's his first or
his last name—anyhow, he had a partner named
Shere Ali. No one knows much about Ali, for he
came here just recently. Anyhow, he and Phut
didn't get along very well it seems.
“Neighbors often heard 'em scrappin' a lot,
and this afternoon they went at it again hot and
heavy. Then things quieted down, and nobody
heard anything more. Toward dark a man went
in to buy a lamp. He found the place without a
light in it, stumbled over something on the floor,


No Alimony
157
and there was Ali's body, with the head busted in
and this heavy candlestick near it.
"He raised the howl right off, and Pinkus and
I got there as soon as we could. Of course Phut
was gone. But we'll get him!”
“Then you think he did it?"
"Sure he did! Who else?"
"And the watch was in Ali's hand ?”
"Sure! Held so tight we could hardly get it
out. In fact it was so tight that he's cut his
palm grabbin' hold of it. Maybe the fight was
about who owned the watch, for the Dagos talked
in their foreign lingo and none of the neighbors
could tell what they were sayin'."
"I see. And the watch? Have you it?”
“Yes, it's here. Going yet, too. Hear it tick?”
and Donovan held open the door of his closet.
From the place, in which hung odd coats, caps
and other garments, and from the shelf on which
was a collection of gruesome weapons, came an
insistent ticking.
“That's the watch,” announced the headquarters
detective, reaching in for it. “Going yet-see?"
and he held it out to Colonel Ashley.
Somewhat to the surprise of Donovan the mili-
tary detective accepted the timepiece on his open
palm, and so gingerly that it caused Donovan to
remark:
"You're not as squeamish as all that, are you?


158
The Diamond Cross Mystery
Just because it was in a dead man's hand-and
in a woman's?"
"Oh, not at all,” was the quick answer. “But,
as a matter of fact these East Indians are often
carriers of bubonic plague, you know, and it's
very contagious. Of course neither Shere Ali
nor Singa Phut may have had the germs about
them, but I am a bit squeamish when it comes to
contagious diseases of that nature, and I wouldn't
like to scratch myself on that watch.”
"Scratch yourself-on a watch?" and Donovan's
voice was plainly skeptical.
“Yes. It may have some rough edges on it.
And I've read enough about germs to know the
danger. I'd advise you to be careful!"
“Ha!" laughed Donovan shortly. "I should
worry about that! The watch don't figure in the
case, except maybe they quarreled over who owned
it.”
Colonel Ashley said nothing. He was carefully
examining the watch, which he still held in the
palm of the hand-holding it as carefully as
though indeed it might be laden with germs the
least touch of which against a tiny scratch might
produce death.
"Quite a curiosity," said the colonel at length.
"If you don't mind, I should like to examine this
a bit.”
“You can't take it away,” said Donovan. "I


No Alimony
159
may need it as evidence when we get Mr. Phut,
or whatever the Dago's name is.” !
"Oh, no, I wouldn't think of taking it away.
I'll look at it here. It seems to be a very old
timepiece-one of the first made smaller than the
old 'Nuremberg eggs I fancy. Quite an interest-
ing study—watches—Donovan. Ever take it up?"
and as the colonel questioned he was looking at
the Indian timepiece under a magnifying glass
he took from his pocket.
“Who? Me study watches? I should say not!
It keeps me busy enough here without that."
“Yes,” went on the colonel musingly. “This
is an old-timer. The first watches, you know,
Donovan, were really small clocks, and some were
so much like clocks that the folks who carried
them had to hang them to their belts instead of
carrying them in their pockets. That was away
back in the fifteenth century."
“Before the Big Wind in Ireland,” suggested
Thong with a nod at his Irish compatriot...
"Slightly," laughed the colonel. “But, all jok-
ing aside, this is quite a wonderful piece of work.
I shouldn't be surprised but what it dated back to
the time of Queen Elizabeth, though it has been
repaired and remodeled since then to make it more
up to date. Probably new works put in. Queen
Elizabeth was very fond of watches and clocks,
and her friends, knowing that, used to present


162
The Diamond Cross Mystery
vus,
a little stream, fishing; or, at any rate, he was
somewhat idly using a rod and line to aid him
in his thoughts.
Following his visit to police headquarters and
his return to the hotel, he had called Kenneth on
the telephone and arranged to spend a quiet day
with him in the fields near the stream.
"I want to talk over Darcy's case with you,"
the colonel had said.
And the two had talked, had thought, had
talked again, and now were silent for a time.
"What are the chances of getting him off
legally if we go at it from a negative stand-
point?" asked the colonel. “I mean, Mr. Kenneth,
if we call upon the prosecution to make out their
best case, which they can do only by circumstan-
tial evidence, and then put our man on the
stand, to deny everything, to have him tell about
the noise in the night, about the curious sensation
he experienced, about the possibility of chloro-
form, call witnesses as to his good character-and
so on-what are the chances?"
“Rather a hypothetical question, Colonel, but
I should say it might be a fifty-fifty proposition.
At best he would get off with a Scotch verdict
of 'not proven,' but he doesn't want that, nor do
I. And you--"
"I don't want it, either. But I want to know
just where we stand. Now I know. We've got


No Alimony
163
to prove James Darcy innocent by establishing
the fact that some one else killed his cousin.”
"Exactly. And can it be done?”
"It can, and I'm going to do it. But I need
to do a little more smoking-out first. Now I
want to think. If you'll excuse me I'll pretend
I'm fishing, and I may catch something. In fact,
I have a feeling that I'll land my fish. And per-
haps you have some other problems that may be
clarified by a dallying along this stream. Ah,
there's nothing like the philosophy of my friend
Izaak Walton. I'd recommend him to you in-
stead of Blackstone.”
"Thanks!” laughed Kenneth. “I am not alto-
gether unfamiliar with the Complete Angler. And
you are right. I have a little problem on my
hands."
"What is it? Perhaps I can help you. The old
adage of two heads, you know—”.
“Yes. It still holds good. Well, the question
I am trying to solve is why did she say: 'No ali-
mony!”
“'No alimony'?” repeated the colonel, puzzled.
“Yes. Just that. As you may have guessed,
it's a divorce case I have just finished, and so
quietly that it hasn't become public property yet.
When it does it will create a sensation.”
"No alimony, eh? I suppose the lady—there is
a lady in it, of course?” questioned the colonel.


164
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Of course-as is usual in a divorce case. And
there's no reason you shouldn't know. It's Mrs.
Larch, wife of Langford Larch, the wealthy hotel
owner. She has just been granted, on my appli-
cation before the vice chancellor, a separation from
her husband, but she refused to accept alimony,
and for the life of me, with all Larch's wealth,
I can't see why. That's my problem, Colonel l”


CHAPTER XII
THE ODD COIN
COLONEL ASHLEY fished for a time in silence,
broken only by the gentle snores of Shag, farther
back in the field, and by the murmur of the water.
The old colored man, wrapped in a warm coat, for
it was not summer yet, seemed to be enjoying his
siesta when, with a suddenness that was startling
in that solitude, the military detective uttered a
cry of:
"I've got it!”
“What?" called Kenneth. “The solution to my
problem?”
"No! My fish!” chuckled the colonel, as he
skilfully played the luckless trout, now struggling
to get loose from the hook.
And when the fish was landed, panting on the
grass, and Shag had been roused from his slum-
ber to slip the now limp fish into the creel, Col-
onel Ashley gave a sigh of relief and remarked:
"I think I see it now.”
“The reason she asked no alimony?" inquired
Kenneth
“No. I wasn't thinking of that. But I have
165


166
The Diamond Cross Mystery
been gathering up some loose ends, and I think
I know where to tie them together. However,
don't think I'm not interested in your case. I've
fished enough for to-day. Not that, ordinarily,
I'm satisfied with one, but I'm not working the
rod now. I am, as Shag calls it, 'detectin',' and
I just came out here to clarify my thoughts. Hav-
ing done that, I'm at your service, if I can help.”
"Well, I don't know that you can. As I said,
the facts of the separation of the Larchs will soon
be heralded all over the city, for the final papers
were filed to-day, and the reporters will be sure
to see them. So there is no harm in my telling
you about it. It's a plain and sordid story enough,
with the exception of her refusal of alimony, and
that I can't understand. Do you care to hear
about it?"
“Certainly, my dear Kenneth.”
"It has no connection with the Darcy murder,
and so I didn't mention it to you before.”
“Go on."
"It isn't generally known,” went on the lawyer,
"that the hotel keeper's wife has left him. She
went away a short time ago, and came to me
and told me her story. It was one of what at
first might be called refined cruelty on her hus-
band's part, degenerating gradually into that of
the baser sort.”
“You don't mean that Larch struck her--that


The Odd Coin
167
there was physical abuse, do you?" asked the
colonel.
“That's what he did. He seems to have been
decent for a while after their marriage-which
marriage was a mistake from the first-I can
see that now. I used to know Cynthia when she
was a girl—she was the daughter of Lodan Ratch-
ford, and her mother had peculiar and, to my
mind, wrong ideas of social position and money.
Well, poor Cynthia is paying the penalty now.
She was really forced into this marriage which, to
say the least, must have been distasteful to her.
But I don't suppose more than two or three know
that."
The colonel did not disclose the fact that it
was no news to him. Aaron Grafton's statement
was being unexpectedly confirmed. He remem-
bered that Cynthia and Grafton had once been in
love with each other.
"Well, when Cynthia came to me, in my capac-
ity as lawyer as well as old friend, I could hardly
believe what she told me about her husband,"
went on Kenneth. “She said he had struck her
more than once, and she could stand it no longer.
"She wanted to apply for a divorce, but when
I showed her that this would bring about much
publicity, and necessitate taking testimony on both
sides with possibly a long-dragged out case, she
agreed merely to ask for a separation now, on


The Odd Coin
169
“Did he pay it?"
"No; but he will, or I'll sue him and get judg-
ment. Oh, he'll pay all right. He'll be so tickled
to get out of paying his wife a monthly sum that
he'll settle with me. But I can't understand her
attitude any more than I can the change that came
over him. For I really think he loved Cynthia
once. She was a beautiful girl, and is still a
handsome woman, though trouble has left its
mark on her. Well, it's a queer world anyhow !"
"Isn't it?” agreed the colonel. “And it takes all
sorts of persons to make it up. I'm sorry I can't
offer any explanation as to why your client
wouldn't accept money when she had a perfect
right to it. However, as you won your case I
suppose it doesn't so much matter."
"Not a great deal. Still I would like to know.
There will be a sensation when this comes out."
And there was, when Daley, of the Times,
scooped the other reporters and sprang his sensa-
tional story of the separation of the Larchs, the
case having been heard in camera by the vice
chancellor.
The murder of Mrs. Darcy had, some time
ago, been shifted off the front page, though it
would get back there when the young jeweler
was tried. As for the killing of Shere Ali, that
occasioned only passing interest, the murdered
man not being well known.


170
The Diamond Cross Mystery
But the separation of Mr. and Mrs. Larch was
different. The finely appointed hotel kept by
Larch, called the “Homestead," from the name
of an old inn of Colonial days which it replaced,
was known for miles around. It had a double
reputation, so to speak. Though it had a grill,
in which, nightly, there gathered such of the
“sports” of Colchester as cared for that form of
entertainment, the Homestead also catered to
gatherings of a more refined nature. Grave, and
even reverend, conventions assembled in its ball-
room, and politicians of the upper, if not better,
class were frequently seen in its dining-room or
cafe. Being convenient to the courthouse, nearly
all the judges and lawyers took lunch there. The
place was also the scene of more or less impor-
tant political dinners of the state, at which mat-
ters in no slight degree affecting national policies
were often whipped into shape.
Larch himself was a peculiar character. In a
smaller place he would have been called a saloon
keeper. Going a little higher up the scale in
population he might have been designated as a
hotel proprietor. But in Colchester, which was
rather unique among cities, he was looked up to
as one of the substantial citizens of the place,
for he owned the Homestead, where Washing-
ton, when it was a wayside inn, had stopped one
night-at least such was the rumor-and families


The Odd Coin
173
or who had not yet acquired any, and were will-
ing to “take a chance."
And, also, old friends of Mrs. Larch observed
that the smile did not long linger on her face.
And that behind the laughter in her eyes was
the shadow of a skeleton at the feast. Then came
the legal separation and the parting. Mrs. Larch,
resuming her maiden name, it was announced,
had gone to a quiet place to rest.
To her few intimates it was known that Cynthia
had gone to the little village of Pompey, where
her father owned a small summer home. As for
Larch, he met the various questions fired at him
by his friends and others at the Homestead, as
well as he was able. It was all due to a mis-
understanding, he said.
That was before the whole story of his cruel
treatment of his wife became known. For the
papers of her testimony had been sealed, and it
was only by a sharp trick on the part of Daley
that he got access to them. Incidentally the vice
chancelor was furious when it became known
that the documents had been inspected by a re-
porter, but then it was too late.
The story spread over half the front page of
the Times, and it was noted that the evening
the paper came out a dinner which was to have
been given by the Lawyers' Club at the Home-
stead was unexpectedly postponed.
wa


174
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"It wouldn't do, you know, after that story
came out, for me and the vice chancellor who sat
in the case, as well as other judges and members
of the bar, to be seen there," Kenneth explained
to the colonel.
Slowly and gradually, but none the less surely,
a change came over the Homestead. The gather-
ing of congenial spirits, who knew they would be
undisturbed by a roistering element, grew less fre-
quent in the grill and Tudor rooms. And it was
whispered about:
"Larch is lushing !"
Meanwhile Colonel Ashley was a very busy
man, and to no one did he tell very much about
his activities. He saw Darcy frequently at the
jail, and to that young man's pleadings that
something be done, always returned the answer:
“Don't worry! It will come out all right!”
“But Amy—and the disgrace?”
"She doesn't consider herself disgraced, and
you shouldn't. The best of police headquarters
or prosecutor's detectives make mistakes. I'm
going to rectify them. But it will take time.”
“Do you know who killed my cousin ?"
"I think I do.”
“Then for the love of_ "
"I can't tell you yet, Darcy. All in good time.
I've got to be sure of my ground before I make
too many moves. Oh, I know it's hard for you


The Odd Coin
175
to stay here, and hard to have the stigma at-
tached to your name. It's hard for Miss Mason,
too, although she's bearing up like a major. Gad,
sir, that's what she's doing!
“You've got a friend in her of whom you may
be proud. And her father, too_he's with you
from the drop of the flag, he told me. Quite a
racing man he is, a gentleman and a fine judge
not only of whisky, which is good in its place,
but of horses and men, too. Darcy, you've got
good friends!"
"I know it, Colonel, and I count you among the
best.”
"Thanks. Then prove it by not asking me to
play my hand before I have all the cards I want.
All in good time. I'm working several ends, and
they all must be fitted together, like the old jig-
saw puzzle, before I can act. Besides, anything
I could say now wouldn't set you free. You
can't get out before a trial or before I can pro-
duce some one on whom I can actually fasten the
murder. And I can't do that yet. You aren't
the only suspect, though. There's Harry King,
still locked up
"No, he isn't, Colonel."
"He isn't?” cried the old detective, and there
was surprise in his voice.
"No. He was bailed out to-day. I thought
you knew it.”


176
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"I didn't. I'm glad you told me, though. So
King got bail! Who put it up? It was high !”
“Larch !”
“The hotel keeper?”
“So I understand. They took Harry away a
while ago. I wish I had been in his shoes."
"I'm glad you're not. I don't imagine, for a
moment, that fool King had a hand in this affair.
In fact I know he didn't. But his are pretty un-
certain shoes to be in just the same. Now cheer
up! This setting him free on bail has given me a
new angle to work on. So cheer up, and I'll do
the best I can for you. Any message you want to
send to Miss Mason?”
"Only that I–” Darcy hesitated and grew red.
"I guess I understand," said the colonel with a
laugh. "I'll tell her!”
The colonel spent that evening in the grill room
of the Homestead. Though it was not the same
· as it had been, and though patronage of the better
sort had fallen off considerably, it was still a jolly
enough sort of place of its character to be in. A
number of "men about town,” as they liked to be
called, were in, and Colonel Ashley was sipping
his julep when there entered Mr. Kettridge, the
relative of Mrs. Darcy, whose jewelry shop he
was managing pending a settlement of her estate.
“Good evening, Colonel,” he called genially.
“Will you join me in a Welsh rabbit?"


The Oud Coin
177
“Thank you, no. I'm afraid my digestion isn't
quite up to that, as I've had to cut out my fishing
of late. But what do you say to a julep?"
“Delighted, I'm sure," and they sat down at
one of the half-enclosed tables in the grill and
ordered food and drink. They had become friends
since the colonel's first visit to the store, and the
friendship had grown as they found they had
congenial tastes.
The evening passed pleasantly for them. They
talked of much, including the murder, and the
colonel was more than pleased to find that the
jeweler had no very strong suspicion against
young Darcy.
"I've known him from a boy," said Mr. Kett-
ridge, "and, though he has his faults, a crime
such as this would be almost impossible to him,
no matter what motive, such as the dispute over
money or his sweetheart. He may be guilty, but
I doubt it.”
"My idea, exactly," returned the colonel. "Now
as to certain matters in the store on the morning
of the murder. The stopped clocks, for instance.
Have you any theory— ".
Came, at that instant, fairly bursting into the
quiet grill room, some "jolly good fellows," to
take them at their own valuation. There were
three of them, the center figure being that of
Harry King, and he was very much intoxicated.


178
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Hello, Harry! Where have you been?" some
one called.
King regarded his questioner gravely, as
though deeply pondering over the matter. It was
often characteristic of him that, though he be-
came very much intoxicated, yet, at times, under
such conditions, Harry King's language ap-
proached the cultured, rather than degenerated
into the common talk of the ordinary drunk.
That is not always, but sometimes. It happened
to be so now.
"I beg your pardon?” he said, in the cultured
tones he knew so well how to use, yet of which
he made so little use of late.
"I said, where have you been?” remarked the
other. “We've missed you."
"I have been spending a week end in the coun-
try," King remarked, with biting sarcasm.
“Found I was getting a bit stale in my golf,
don't you know—” there was a momentary pause
while he regained the use of his 'treacherous
tongue, then he went on—"I caught myself fooz-
ling a few putts, and I concluded I needed to work
back up to form."
There was a laugh at this, for scarcely one in
the gilded grill but knew where King had been,
and whither he was going. But the laugh was
instantly hushed at the look that flashed from his
eyes toward those who had indulged in the mirth.


The Odd Coin
179
King had a nasty temper that grew worse with
his indulgence in drink, and it was clear that
he had been indulging and intended to continue.
"I said I was—golfing," he went on, exceed-
ingly distinctly, though with an effort. "And
now, Cal,” and he nodded patronizingly to the
white-aproned and respectful bartender, "will you
be kind enough to see what my friends will be
pleased to order that they may pour out a liba-
tion to let us say Polonius!”
"Why Polonius?” some one asked.
"Because, dear friend,” replied King softly, "he
somewhat resembles a certain person here, who
talks too much, but who is not so wise as he
thinks. And now—" he raised his glass—"to all
the gods that on Olympus dwell!"
And they drank with him.
Nodding and smiling at his friends, who
thronged about him, standing under the gay lights
which reflected from costly oil paintings, Harry
King plunged his hand into his pocket to pay the
bill, a check for which the bartender had thrust
toward him.
“Gad, but he's got a wad!" somebody whispered,
as King pulled forth a great roll of bills, together
with a number of gold and silver coins.
There was a rattle of coins on the mahogany
bar as King sought to disentangle a single bill
from the wadded-up currency in his pocket.


The Diamond Cross Mystery
Some coins fell to the floor and rolled in the
direction of the table whereat sat the colonel and
Mr. Kettridge. The latter, with a pitying smile
on his face, leaned over to pick them up. As he
did so, and brought a piece of money up into
the light, a curious look came over his face. He
stared at the coin.
"What is it?” asked Coloney Ashley, noting the
unusual look.
"It's—it's an odd coin-an old Roman one-
that Mrs. Darcy had in her private collection,
kept in the jewelry store safe," was the whis-
pered answer. “I went over them the other day
and noticed some were missing, though I saw
them all when I paid a visit to her just a short
time before she was killed.”
"Was this odd coin in her collection?” asked
the colonel, as he looked at the piece which Ket-
tridge handed him. It was of considerable value
to a collector.
“That was hers," went on the jeweler. "It
must have been taken from her safe, for she had
refused many offers to sell it. And now_”.
"Now Harry King has it !” exclaimed Colonel
Ashley. "I think this will bear looking into !"


CHAPTER XIII
SINGA PHUT
MR. KETTRIDGE, his eyes big with unconcealed
wonder as he looked at the odd coin, was eager
to accost Harry King at once and demand to
know whence the roysterer had obtained it. In
fact, the jeweler half arose from his chair, to ap-
proach the three swaggering men in the cafe
section of the grill, when Colonel Ashley laid a
restraining hand on the shoulder of his new
friend.
"'It won't do now," he said gently.
“Why not? I've got to find out how he came
by that coin! It's a rare and valuable one I
tell you. It's worth all of a thousand dollars to
a collector. Lots of them would be glad to pay
more. It's catalogue price is a thousand. And
now this drunken fool has it! He must-Colonel,
don't you see what this means?"
"Yes, Mr. Kettridge, I can very easily see
what it might mean. But King is in no con-
dition now to approach on such a subject. There
is a saying that when the wine is in the wit is
out, and it is generally held, by some detectives,
181


182
The Diamond Cross Mystery
that then is the proper time to approach a sub-
ject for information that would otherwise be with-
held. But King is in a sarcastic mood now, and
sufficiently able to take care of himself to be
very suspicious if we began to question him, even
under the guise of friendship.”
"I suppose so," agreed the jeweler, "and
yet- "
“Oh, I wish I hadn't got into this !” suddenly
exclaimed Colonel Ashley, with almost a despair-
ing gesture. “I started out for some quiet fish-
ing, which I very much needed, for I am getting
too old for this sort of thing. I ought never
to have undertaken it! I'm almost resolved to
give it up. I believe I will!” he said suddenly,
slapping his hand on the table, at the sound of
which a waiter hurried up.
"No-nothing now," went on the colonel, wav-
ing the man away. “Yes, I'll give this case up!"
he went on, with a sigh. “In the morning I'll get
Shag to lay out my rods and we'll go fishing. I
was foolish to let myself be dragged into this.
It would have been all right five years ago. But
now-well, I'm through-that's all !”
Mr. Kettridge regarded his companion with
amazement.
"But what can we do without you?” he asked.
“Oh, I'll send you one of my best men,” was
the answer. “I'll wire for Kedge. You can rely


Singa Phut
183
on him. He's solved more cases like this than
I can remember. Yes, I'll send for Kedge. This
is no place for me. I'm too old.”
“Too old, Colonel?”
"Yes, too old! And I've grown too fond of
fishing. Yes, I'll let Kedge finish this up. And
yet- "
The detective seemed to muse for a moment.
Then he went on, half murmuring to himself.
"No, hang it all! Kedge has that bank case
to look after. Anyhow, I don't believe he'd figure
this out right. Oh, well, I suppose there's no
help for it. I've got to keep on now that I've
started. But it's my last case! Positively my last
case !" and once more he banged his hand down
on the table.
Again the waiter glided up. He looked at the
colonel expectantly, and the latter stared at him
uncomprehendingly for a moment.
“Oh, yes,” went on the detective. “You may
bring memer-just a small glass of claret-a
very small one.”
Mr. Kettridge gave his order, and then looked
relieved. The colonel had seemed very much in
earnest.
"Do you suppose," asked the jeweler, "that
Harry King could have had anything to do with
this case?"
"Of course it's possible, but, even so, we can


184
The Diamond Cross Mystery
easily make sure of him and arrest him when we
want him. To approach him now would only
be to defeat your own plan, that is if you have
one. I confess this startles me. I don't know
what to make of it, and there's no use pretending
that I do. After all, detective work is the out-
come of common sense plus a sort of special in-
tuition and knowledge. I have gotten to a cer-
tain point, and now some of my theories are
shattered. That is they would be if I had been
foolish enough to have formed arbitrary theories
that could not be changed. As it is, that's just
what I have not done. I am still open to argument
and conviction, and this coin, which you say be-
longed to Mrs. Darcy a few days before her
death, and which now makes its appearance in
the hands of a drunken man who has been under
suspicion, makes cause for question.
"But, my dear Mr. Kettridge, let us be reason-
able. King will not run away, and in his pres-
ent condition he is likely to pick a quarrel with
you if you mention the murder to him. Consider,
also, that it may be he came into possession of
this coin honestly."
"How?"
"He may have received it in change here. He's
spent enough money in the place I suppose.”
"But if he got it here Great Scott! you
don't suppose that Larch "


Singa Phut
185
"I don't suppose anything yet, least of all re-
garding Larch. But consider. This is a public
place. A hundred persons—yes, two or three
hundred —come in here every day, spend money
and receive change. Now this coin, though to you
and me it shows itself at once to be of great
antiquity, might easily be passed, in a hurry, or
to one who had not the full possession of his
senses, as a silver half dollar, which it somewhat
resembles. In fact, I think I can persuade King
that it was a half dollar he dropped.”
And, somewhat to the surprise of Mr. Kett-
ridge, the colonel, who had been watching King
as the latter sought on the floor for his fallen
coins, walked up to the wastral and handed him
a fifty-cent piece.
“You dropped that, I believe,” said Colonel
Ashley, genially enough.
“Thanks, old top! Perhaps I did. Have a
drink?"
“No, thank you!"
With a friendly wave of his hand to the
colonel, King slipped the half dollar into his
pocket with other loose change and turned to the
glass that awaited him.
"You see,” said the colonel to Mr. Kettridge.
“He doesn't know he had it-he doesn't know
he lost it-he doesn't know you have it. Keep
it, I beg of you. We may need it.”


186
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"But suppose King goes away?”
"He won't. I'll take care of that. I'll tele-
graph for one of my best men. I have a little
more than I can look after personally."
"What do you intend to do?"
“Have King kept in sight. There are some
others in this city I need to shadow."
“You don't mean Singa Phut?”
“No, he's in custody. Besides, I've-Well, I
guess I won't say what conclusion I've come to
regarding him. I might have to change it. He
is an interesting study. I haven't yet found a
motive for his killing of his partner-if he did
it.”
“Who else could ?"
“There might be many. Just as there might
be many ways to account for King's having pos-
session of this coin. He may have come by it in
a way that is easily explained, and if we, in-
ferentially, accused him there would be trouble."
"I suppose so. Well, Colonel Ashley, I'll
leave the case in your hands. God knows, for the
sake of the family name, I'd like to see Darcy
cleared. I don't believe he did it. Here, you
keep this coin," for the detective had offered it to
his companion. “You may need it."
"Yes. I may. And so it is worth a thou-
sand dollars," mused the colonel. "Just about
the sum Darcy claimed from his cousin. I won-


Singa Phut
187
der-Oh, but what's the use of wondering? I
must make certain," and he put the old Roman
coin safely away in his wallet.
The colonel and his friend finished their modest
meal, and their more modest potations, of no
very strong liquids, and went out, leaving Harry
King and his companions to "make a night of it.”
Larch, whose face was unusually flushed, was
endeavoring to bring the young men to a less bois-
terous state, for he realized that his better class
of patrons did not like this sort of thing.
But King was in jubilant mood. He had been
released, under heavy bail, it is true, when the
hotel keeper gave a pledge for the appearance
of the young man when he was wanted. Harry
was only held as a witness, so far, but an im-
portant one, and because of his known character-
istic of suddenly disappearing at times a heavy
bond had been required.
Why Larch had gone on this bond did not
make itself clear to Colonel Ashley, and he set
that down in his little red note book as one
of the matters needing to be cleared up.
And so, wondering much, the colonel and Mr.
Kettridge, the former with the rare coin, went
out into the cool and star-lit night, leaving be-
hind them the sounds of good-fellowship, of that
particular brand, in the Homestead.
One of the first places the colonel visited the
Tucu.


188
The Diamond Cross Mystery
next day was the jewelry shop. Matters there
had nearly assumed their normal aspect. Trade
was about the same, under the skilful manage-
ment of Mr. Kettridge, and the cut glass and
silver gleamed and glistened in the showcases as
though the former owner of it all had not been
cruelly slain.
"Show you her collection of coins? Certainly,"
agreed Mr. Kettridge, when the colonel told what
he wanted. “As I said, I saw them, and par-
ticularly the one we picked up last night, in her
safe a week or so before she was killed. I was
on for a visit. And I know that a week previous
to that she had refused a thousand dollars for
this particular one. These coins were one of her
hobbies,” and he brought from the safe the col-
lection, which was of considerable value to a
numismatist.
“There seem to be others besides the Roman
coin gone,” said the jeweler, “for I now miss
many I used to see in her case. But, of course,
she may have sold them. I do remember the
one King had, though, and I'm sure she never
sold that. It was taken close to the time she
was killed.”
Colonel Ashley, taking advantage of the time
when the store was closed for the night, minutely
examined the safe, but could find no evidence of
its having been tampered with.


Singa Phut
189
"For what started out to be a simple murder
case," mused the old detective, as he went back to
his hotel that night, "this one bids fair to be-
come quite complicated.”.
An impulse—it was hardly more than that,
and yet it had to do with the matter in hand-
sent the detective to police headquarters.
"I think I'll ask Donovan what Singa Phut said
when he was arrested and charged with murder-
ing his partner," said the colonel to himself.
“There's an end I haven't developed very much.
And I would like to ask that East Indian some-
thing about that queer watch.”
Donovan was at headquarters, it being his night
"on," and he welcomed the detective as some one
with whom he might hold converse.
"Have a talk with Singa Phut? Why sure, if
it will do you any good," said the headquarters
man when the colonel had made known his de-
sire. "I was going to the jail on another matter,
anyhow, and I might as well kill two birds as
one. They'll let you see him if I'm with you.
Otherwise you'd have to get an order from the
prosecutor's office. Come along."
It was raining when they reached the jail, and
the colonel, as he heard the patter of drops,
thought of the night he had first come to Col-
chester.
"There ought to be good fishing after this


CHAPTER XIV
THE HIDDEN WIRES
DONOVAN looked at the deputy as if about to
dispute the statement. The detective even opened
his lips to speak, but no sound came through
them. Donovan sat down in a chair.
“Do you mean—” he asked, passing his hand
over his face, as though to brush away unseen
cobwebs. “Do you mean that he's dead?”
"Sure,” was the answer. “Croaked, I told
you. Deader 'n a burned out cigarette."
"Well,” observed Donovan dispassionately,
“that's the limit!”
"I agree with you," said the colonel, and there
was a curious look on his face. “Though if you
mean it's the end I beg to differ. It's only the
beginning."
“How'd it happen?" asked Donovan sharply.
"We don't know," was the answer. “The
Dago was all right to-day, except he seemed a
little glummer than usual. He didn't eat any
supper though, but that's nothing. Lots of times
the birds in here get off their feed," and the
deputy warden made a comprehensive gesture.
191


The Hidden Wires
193
settling himself into his coat which he had re-
moved the better to examine the body of the
East Indian.
"Well, Donovan," said the county physician.
"your friend saved you the trouble of convicting
him.”
"Yep. But I'd a had him all right. I'd a sent
him to the chair without any trouble. But what
ailed him, Doc?”
"I can't say yet. Looks like a case of heart
disease. I'll hold an autopsy in the morning.
He's dead all right.”
"I thought maybe some of the other prisoners
might have got in and croaked him," commented
the headquarters detective. “Riley was saying
some one let out a yell.”
“That was Schmidt-fellow that killed his
wife," interposed the deputy warden. “He's in
the cell next to where the Dago was. Schmidt
said he heard the foreigner breathing awful
funny. It was his last breath all right. He was
dead when I got in, Doc.”
“Yes, they go quick that way."
"Are you sure it was heart disease, Dr. War-
ren?" asked the colonel.
“No, not at all. I just mentioned that as
most probable. He didn't look strong. I can't
tell for a certainty until to-morrow."
"Pardon me, Dr. Warren, for presuming on


194
The Diamond Cross Mystery
what is particularly your own ground, but did
you look to see if any of the cigarettes were left
in his cell ?"
"I didn't notice. If you want to take a look
come on back. And I don't in the least mind
any suggestions from you, Colonel. I'm too
much interested in your work. In fact, I'd be
glad to have you help in this investigation if you
think there's anything crooked.”
“Oh, not at all. Suicide is, of course, the
most natural suspicion in a case like this, and it
isn't hard to conceal enough opium in a cigarette
to kill a dozen men.”
"Blazes! I never thought of that !” ejaculated
the deputy. “Come on!” and he led the way
back to the cell.
Singa Phut's body had been removed to another
part of the jail. But the cell was as it had been
when the final summons came to the East In-
dian.
There were the few poor possessions he had
been allowed to have with him-simple and appar-
ently safe enough. And, scattered on the floor,
were some of the cigarettes, made from strong
Latakia tobacco, the peculiar ordor of which was,
even yet, noticeable in the corners of the cell.
"He smoked some of 'em all right,” observed
the deputy.
“Let's have a look,” suggested the colonel. "If


The Hidden Wires
195
we had a better light in here it might help.”
"I'll bring one of the two-hundred watt bulbs
we use down in the office,” said the warden, who
had joined the little group. There was an elec-
tric light socket in each cell-recently installed
as the result of the agitation of a prison reform
committee. The low-powered bulb was taken out
and the glaring nitrogen gas one substituted. It
made the cell very bright, and by the glare the
colonel gathered up a number of the cigarettes.
Some had been smoked down to a mere stub;
others had not been lighted, and two or three
were broken in half, neither end showing signs
of either having been scorched by a match or
wet by the lips of Singa Phut.
“Queer he'd waste 'em that way," observed
Donovan. “Usually they can't get enough to
smoke.”
“He didn't exactly waste them,” said the colo-
nel grimly, as he looked at the divided but other-
wise perfect cigarettes in his hand.
"What do you call it then?” demanded the
headquarters detective.
"Well, I think he was looking for something
in the cigarettes-and-he found it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Dr. Warren.
"Wait. Maybe I can show you."
Colonel Ashley carefully gathered up all the
cigarettes in the cell, a number of them being


196
The Diamond Cross Mystery
perfect. With them, and the black butts, as
well as the broken paper tubes, he moved over to
the small table in the cell, and spread them out.
Donovan reached under the colonel's arm and
broke open one of the whole cigarettes. “I don't
seem” he began. “For the love of Mike look at
this !” he suddenly exclaimed. “There's a needle
in this dope stick!"
"And, if you value your life don't touch it!"
cried the colonel. “That's what I was looking
for! Don't so much as scratch yourself the
hundredth part of an inch or— Well, you saw
Singa Phut,” he ended grimly.
"Poisoned needle, Colonel ?” asked Dr. War-
ren, as he shoved the cigarette Donovan had
broken toward the middle of the table.
“That's what I suspect. If we had a cat now
or a rat?”
"Easy enough to get a rat," interposed the
warden. “There's always some of the beasts in
the traps we set about. We catch 'em alive. I
don't like poison. Here, Riley, go and see if you
can find a rat in one of the traps. What you
going to do, Colonel? Try it on him?"
“If you have one, yes. You get my idea, I
guess. Some one of Singa Phut's Indian friends,
knowing he would rather go out this way than
pay the penalty of his crime, brought in a pack-
age of his favorite cigarettes.


198
The Diamond Cross Mystery
the warden. “They're nasty to handle. One of
'em niped my dog fierce when I gave him a chance
at killing it a day or so ago.”
"I'm not going to let it out. If I had a stick,
or something that I could fasten the needle on,
I could work a sort of javelin,” remarked the
colonel.
"I'll get you one," offered Riley, much in-
terested in the coming experiment. Donovan,
too, looked on in startled wonder.
A long, slender stick was brought and, using
great care, with his rubber gloves on that he
used in autopsies, Doctor Warren fastened the
needle to the wand. Then Colonel Ashley thrust
the improvised spear through the wires of the cage
and lightly punctured the rat, which gave a pro-
testing squeak.
"It didn't hurt him much," observed the col-
onel, “and, if I have guessed right, his death will
be painless.”
"How soon ?” asked Donovan.
"I can't say, but it ought not be very long.
The kind of poison they use is calculated to
work swiftly."
In the glaring light from the nitrogen bulb
they stood in the cell of the dead man, gathered
about the cage of the rat-a prison within a
prison. After the first start caused by the needle
prick, the rodent again shrank back into its


The Hidden Wires
199
corner. For perhaps ten minutes it remained
thus, and then it began to exhibit signs of un-
easiness. It stood up on its haunches and began
to bite at the wires of the cage. It squeaked,
more as though uneasy than in pain.
In another minute it began to run around the
tin floor of its prison, and then it suddenly
stopped in its tracks, fell over in a lump and was
still.
"Well, I'll be " began Donovan, and then,
with a look at the colonel, he substituted: “This
gets me! It sure does!"
"It evidently went right to the heart, just as
in Singa Phut's case," observed the colonel
grimly.
"You were right,” said Doctor Warren, "it
was poison. He probably jabbed himself with
the point of the needle, and whatever was smeared
on it did the rest. I shall be interested in mak-
ing the autopsy."
"You will probably find very little trace of the
poison,” said the colonel. “The kind they use is
designed to disappear almost as soon as it be,
comes effective. Still you may discover some-
thing."
But Doctor Warren did not. Aside from a
little scratch near the prisoner's heart, where he
had evidently dug the needle deep into his skin,
there was no sign that death was other than by


200
The Diamond Cross Mystery
natural causes. The poison had gone directly
into the blood, as does the venom of a snake,
and had brought death in the same way. In
fact, it was the opinion of Colonel Ashley that
some form of snake poison was used, though
what it was, no one could say.
And so passed out and beyond Singa Phut,
and the charge of murder, having been quashed
by a higher tribunal than that of the county
court, the matter was soon forgotten.
The colonel's theory, that some fellow country-
man had supplied the East Indian means of es-
caping the electric chair, was generally accepted.
And that Singa Phut was guilty of having killed
his partner in a sudden fit of passion following
one of their frequent quarrels was also believed
by those who cared to exercise any thought in
the matter.
"But what gets me, though,” said the colonel,
“is where does Singa Phut fit in with the watch
in Mrs. Darcy's hand. That watch! Ah, there's
a link I haven't had time to examine as I'd like
to. I must see to it.”
The colonel fell into a reverie. His eyes went
to the closet where he had put away his fishing
rods.
"Oh, friend Izaak!” he murmured. "How
basely I have deserted you! But I'm coming
back. Yes, I'll stop this detective work. I'll


The Hidden Wires
201
wire for Kedge to-night to come on and take up
the case. He can do it as well as I. I'll get
Kedge!”
He started for the telephone to dictate a tele-
gram. And then, as he chanced to look out of
the window, a different expression came into his
face.
Down on the sidewalk he saw Amy Mason
walking slowly along. The girl's pretty face was
drawn and careworn. Evidently the anxiety over
Darcy was beginning to tell on her.
The old detective shook his head slowly.
"Oh, I suppose I can't back out now," he
sighed. “I've gone too far. It would look like
quitting, and I never was a quitter !"
He straightened up to his soldierly height.
“Besides,” he went on, “Kedge would only mix
matters up now. He wouldn't know what to
do, even if I told him. Kedge is all right for
some things, but Oh, well, I'll keep on with
the case !"
This was the day following the discovery of
the suicide of the East Indian in his cell, and
any intentions Colonel Ashley may have had of
subjecting to a close examination the queer watch
had to be postponed.
He had ventured to keep it after Donovan had
shown it to him, ready to make some plausible
excuse if it was called for, but the arrest of the


202
The Diamond Cross Mystery
East Indian, and the preparation of the case for
trial, in connection with the prosecutor's office,
evidently made Donovan forget, for the time be-
ing, that the watch was not among other criminal
relics in his closet.
As a matter of fact, Colonel Ashley had had
it in his possession since that night Donovan
went out with his friend, the stool pigeon. And
now, carrying out a plan he had made, the
colonel, one bright May morning, put the odd
timepiece in his pocket and started for the Darcy
jewelry store, intending to have Kettridge look
at the mechanism and other parts of the watch.
But when the detective reached the establish-
ment he saw, to his surprise, a great crowd gath-
ered out in front—a crowd that needed the serv-
ices of several policemen to keep it from stopping
traffic in the roadway.
"Hello! More trouble at the place," mused the
colonel, quickening his steps. “I wonder what's
up this time?"
He inquired casually from those on the out-
skirts of the throng, and received enough infor-
mation to justify the getting out of several extra
newspapers.
"Burglar tried to blow up the safe and got
blowed up himself.”
"Hold-up man shot three of the girls behind
the diamond counter and then killed himself.”


The Hidden Wires
203
“Naw! Somebody tried to set fire to the
place !"
“Aw, only one of the girls fainted; that's all.”
These opinions came mostly from boys or
young men. No one seemed to know exactly
what had happened. The colonel spied Mulligan,
the officer who had been the first official on the
scene at the murder of Mrs. Darcy, and nodded
in friendly fashion. The bluecoat escorted the
colonel through the crowd into the store.
"I guess you'll be interested,” said Mulligan.
“Yes, thank you. What is it?".
"I didn't hear all the particulars. But Miss
Brill, the young lady clerk, received an electrical
shock from some wires hidden under the metal
edge of one of the showcases, so Mr. Kettridge
says, and she was knocked down."
“Killed ?"
“No, but her head struck on the edge of a case
and she's badly cut. I sent for the ambulance. It
happened when the store was crowded and made
a bit of excitement."
"I should think it would! Hidden electric
wires !” and the colonel thought of a certain dis-
covery he had made.


CHAPTER XV
A DOG
With the help of the police, and when the
stricken, though not dangerously injured, girl had
been taken away in the ambulance, the crowd was
dispersed. It was then Colonel Ashley had a
chance to speak to Mr. Kettridge.
“What's all this I hear?" asked the detective.
"I don't know," and the manager smiled wearily.
"If you heard all of the rumors I did they would
include everything from an I.W.W.plot to a com-
bined attack by New York gunmen.”
"But what was it?"
"Well, one of our clerks, Miss Brill, was wait-
ing on a customer at one of the silver show-
cases. They are arranged with electric lights in-
side that may be switched on when needed.
"She turned on the current to illuminate the
inside of the case, so that her customer might
make a selection to have spread out on top, when,
in some manner, Miss Brill received a severe elec-
trical shock. She was thrown backward to the
floor, and her head struck a projecting corner of
one of the rear showcases. She was badly cut,
204


206
The Diamond Cross Mystery
know he was working on an electric lathe he
hoped to patent. Those wires may be merely
part of his equipment."
“Yes, and they may—wait a minute !” sud-
denly exclaimed the manager. “I wonder- "
From his private office, into which he had ush-
ered the colonel, he looked down the store. It
was almost deserted now, save for a few cus-
tomers and the clerks.
"It's the same place!" murmured the manager.
“What is?” asked the detective.
"Miss Brill was shocked, and fell at the very
spot where the dead body of Mrs. Darcy was
found !” said Mr. Kettridge in a low, intense
voice. “Except for the fact that she fell behind
the showcase and Mrs. Darcy in front of it, the
place is the same!”
With a muttered exclamation the colonel got
to his feet and also looked out from the private
office.
"You're right,” he admitted. “I wonder if
that is a coincidence or-something else. I must
go to see Darcy.”
The prisoner was measurably startled when the
detective told him the latest development at the
jewelry store.
"Those were never my wires in the showcase !"
cried the young man. “I knew some were there,
for we did have an antiquated burglar alarm sys-


A Dog
207
tem when I first came to work for my cousin. I
had another one put in, and I supposed they had
ripped out the old wires. But the wires I used
for my lathe experiments had no connection with
those, I'm sure. What is your theory?”.
"I have so many I don't know at which one to
begin,” admitted Colonel Ashley. “But I was
wondering if it was possible that the showcase
wires, which when I tested them were dead, could
have, in some manner, become charged, and have
given Mrs. Darcy a shock that might have sent
her reeling to the floor, toppling the heavy statue
over on her head, and so killing her.”
"By accident do you mean?” asked Darcy, his
face lighting up with hope.
“Yes. This young lady received a severe blow
on her head by her fall, and your cousin—"
“You forget the stab wound, Colonel.”
"No, I didn't exactly forget it. I was wonder-
ing how we could account for that if we accepted
the shock theory. I guess we can't. I'm still up
against it. I've struck a snag-—maybe a stone
wall, Darcy!".
"Do you—do you think you can get over it,
Colonel ?"
"By gad, sir! I will! That's all there is to it!
I will!"
The silence of the colonel's room was broken


A Dog
209
a warm spot near the gas log, stretched out and
sighed long in contentment.
Chet was the pet of a man—a permanent resi-
dent of the hotel—who had the suite next Colonel
Ashley's, and, early in his stay at the hostelry,
the detective had made friends with the little
animal, which, when Mr. Bland, its own master,
was out, often came in to visit the fisherman, just
as he had done now.
The colonel was thoroughly enjoying himself,
for he had put aside, in the perusal of Walton,
all thoughts of the murder and its many complica-
tions, when there came another interruption. This
time it was a ring of his room telephone.
There's a gentleman downstairs asking for you,”
came the word in response to his answer to the
summons.
“Who is it?
"Says I'm to tell you he's Mr. Young."
"Oh, yes, Jack Young-send him up.” The
colonel closed the book with a sigh of regret.
“No use trying to read Izaak now,” he mur-
mured. “It would be a sacrilege. I'll have to
wait a bit. Wonder what Jack wants. Ah, come
in !” he called, as a discreet knock sounded on the
half-opened door. “Trouble?”
“Not yet, Colonel, though there may be. Do
you want me to follow King out of town?”
“Of course. Wherever he goes. Stick to him


210
The Diamond Cross Mystery
like a leech," and the detective indicated a chair
to his visitor. Jack Young was one of the
Ashley Agency's most trusted lieutenants.
"I sent for you to have you shadow King,"
said the detective in a low voice, seeing to it that
the door was closed, “because I think we can get
something out of him.”
“Not a confession, surely!" exclaimed Young.
"Well, if he gets drunk enough, yes. But not
the kind of confession that would be any use to
us. What a man babbles when the wine is in
and the wit is out, wouldn't be much use in a
court of law. But if you can get him to tell
anything about where he got that queer coin-the
one that used to be in Mrs. Darcy's collection-so
much to the good. But be foxy about it, Jack."
"I will! What I came to see about is whether
you want me to follow him out of town. He's
been cutting a pretty wide swath since he got out
on bail, and he's been having some pretty sporty
times.”
"And you've been with him; is that it?”
“To the best of my ability, yes,” admitted Jack,
as he patted Chet, when the dog, that evidently
had met him before, slid over to have his ears
pulled.
"I have great faith in your ability, Jack. The
point is to stick to King. You managed to make
friends with him?" !


212
The Diamond Cross Mystery
swered, lamely. “You see, you can't go too far
with a man when he has saved your life."
“But he may know all about it.”
“Possibly.”
“How about young Darcy?”
The colonel did not answer at once. It was
not until he had gone to a closet and taken from it
a package which he placed on a tabarette, on
which, near him, rested a box of cigars, that he
spoke. Then he said:
"If I could find out why Singa Phut used this
watch I'd be in a better position to answer," and
from the package the detective took the timepiece
which he had kept after Donovan had given it to
him to examine.
“You mean you're not sure about Darcy ?”
"Well, I thought I was. At first I had my
doubts. Then, when I had looked over the ground
and talked with Miss Mason and him, I was will-
ing to take up his case just because I believed he
had nothing to do with the murder."
The colonel, who had taken the watch from
some tissue paper in which it was wrapped, laid
it down on the low stool, and turned his attention
to his visitor. Chet with a whine and stretch, in-
dicating that he was warmed and rested, and
would not object to a little play, walked slowly
over toward the colonel.
“But," went on the detective, “since the finding


A Dog
213
of the electric wires running to Darcy's desk-
Jack, I tell you what it is. You helped me out
wonderfully on that robbery of the Chatham bank,
when the cashier ran some wires to the time lock
and had it open five hours ahead of time, I wish
you'd come and have a look at those wires with
me. Maybe you could give me a hint that would
clear up some of the doubt I have regarding
Darcy.”
"All right, Colonel, I'll come. But I think I'd
petter follow King now. He's got a date with
Larch, the hotel keeper, and there may be some-
thing in it.”
“Oh, go by all means! The wires will keep.
Here, I'll give you an idea about how they run,"
and the colonel drew a sort of diagram of the
jewelry store, indicating the showcase where the
hidden wires had been found, explaining to his
man the effect on the young woman clerk who had
been shocked.
Jack Young studied the diagram carefully and
shook his head. The colonel, meanwhile, sat back
and waited. Chet was worrying the tissue paper
in which the Indian's watch was wrapped.
"Well, Colonel, I'll tell you what it is,” said
Jack, after a series of questions, "I'd have to
see the place to get at any right idea of it. Not
to cast any aspersions on your ability as an artist,
I can't just make out how the wires run, from this


A Dog
215
colonel stooped to pick it up. But Jack noticed
that his chief used a wad of the tissue paper with
which to handle the timepiece, which was no
longer ticking
"What's the matter—'fraid of soiling your
hands?” asked Jack with a laugh.
"Well, yes, in a way~"
"Look at the dog's mouth! It's bleeding!"
cried Jack, pointing.
"I was afraid it would be," said the colonel,
quietly. “Don't go near him, Jack, for, unless
I'm much mistaken—".
The two men gazed at the dog. The little
animal suddenly looked up at them in a peculiar
manner. It whined and its body was shaken as
with a cold shiver. A little blood was running
down the lips which were now foam-flecked.
"The dog's going mad!” cried Jack. "Look out,
Colonel, or—"
"You needn't be afraid,” was the calm answer,
as the other turned toward the door. "He'll never
hurt any one. Ah, I thought so!"
And, as the colonel spoke, Chet gave a shudder.
fell over on his side and, with a long sigh, lay
very still.


CHAPTER XVI
THE COLONEL WONDERS
Se
“What did that, Colonel? What devilish thing
did that?” and with a trembling finger Jack Young
pointed to the body of the dead dog on the floor of
the detective's room. “What killed the poor
brute?”
“Unless I'm very much mistaken this did," was
the answer in a low voice, and the colonel, with
the watch still wrapped carefully in the wad of
tissue paper, placed it on the table.
“That ticker killed the dog? Nonsense! He
didn't swallow it! He had it in his mouth, but he
got it out! That couldn't have killed him!"
"I think it did though, Jack, just as it killed
Shere Ali and just as—".
"Do you mean-that's what killed Mrs. Darcy
—that watch 3"
"I don't know yet, Jack.”
"But how could it? How could ".
The visitor ceased his questions to watch the
colonel, who had gone to a closet and taken out
a pair of rubber gloves. Putting themon, he took
the watch from its tissue paper wrappings, and
216


The Colonel Wonders
217
then, holding it under the gleaming light on his
table, he gave a twist to the case, pressed on a
certain point in the rim with the end of his lead
pencil and a tiny needle shot out into view.
"Look !" said the colonel to Jack Young.
“Good Lord! An infernal machine in a watch !"
"Not exactly an infernal machine, but a poisoned
needle which only required pressure on the rim
of the case to shoot it out into the hand, or what-
ever part of a person or animal was near it. Poor
Chet, gnawing the watch which he was playing
with—worrying it as he would a bone--must have
bitten on the right place. The needle shot out,
pierced his tongue or lips and the deadly poison
did the rest !"
"But, Colonel—this—this is the watch Mrs.
Darcy had in her hand when she was found dead!”
“Yes," was the cool response.
"And it's the same one Shere Ali had in his
hand when he was found dead!”
“Yes."
“But both of them had their heads smashed
in!"
“Yes, Jack.”
“But, Great Scott, Colonel! the watch can't do
that as well as poison to death! It's out of the
question!"
"Of course it is. I didn't claim the watch did
anything like that. I don't even claim the poison-


218
The Diamond Cross Mystery
needle watch killed Mrs. Darcy or Shere Ali.
But that it did kill Chet I'm certain.”
“I believe you're right there, Colonel Ashley.
Poor little dog!” and Jack, who loved animals,
looked at the limp body.
"I know I'm right, Jack. If I had seen, in
time, that he had the watch I'd have tried to
get it away from him. But maybe it will turn
out for the best. In the interests of justice ”
“Do you think this will help in solving the
mystery?”
"It may."
"But I thought you said the poison-needle
watch might not have killed Mrs. Darcy?”.
“I'm not saying anything, Jack. It might, and
might not."
"But the blow on her head—the stab wound
in her side ?"
"Both could have been inflicted after the poison
watch killed her-if it did. Mind you, Jack, I'm
making no statements. I am only suggesting
possibilities."
"But- Great Scott, Colonel-Shere Ali was
killed in the same way! He had the ticking
watch in his hand, and his head was smashed
in !"
“Yes.”
"And of course he may have been struck on
his head after he died from the poisoned watch ?”


The Colonel Wonders
219
"Exactly."
“And this watch Darcy had in his possession
to repair just before Mrs. Darcy was found dead,
and she had it in her hand and—say, Colonel,
where are we at?" and Jack Young looked hope-
lessly at his chief.
"I don't know," was the measured answer. “I
wish I did. There is only one thing we can be
sure of, and that is, no matter what part Darcy
had in the murder—if he had any—by means of
this watch in the case of Mrs. Darcy, he had
none in Shere Ali's case, for Darcy was locked
up when that tragedy occurred.”
"That's so, Colonel. And yet— Oh, well, what's
the use of speculating? What are you going to
do next?"
"I don't know. I wish—”.
There came another knock on the door and a
voice asked:
"Is Chet in here, Colonel? I generally find
him with you when he isn't in my room and"
Mr. Bland entered through the opened door,
and from the figures of the detective and his
helper the eyes of Chet's owner went to that of
the motionless dog. Chet's master sensed some-
thing wrong, for with a cry of his pet's name
he hurried toward the stretched-out animal.
"Don't!" exclaimed the colonel, reaching out
a restraining hand. "The dog has been poisoned,


The Colonel Wonders
221
later, when he was about to depart to take up the
shadowing of Harry King.
“I'm going to see how it's made and try to
learn whether or not Darcy was aware of its
deadly nature. If he was"
The colonel did not finish.
"Well, I'll get on my way,” said Jack, after a
pause. “I'll keep in touch with you, in case you
need me.”
“And don't lose sight of Harry King," was
the parting admonition. “Something just as un-
expected as this may turn up in his case," and
the colonel motioned to the watch.
a
timepiece on his table, now silent in its tissue
wrapping. The needle, which under the mag-
nifying glass was shown to be hollow, probably
drawing the poison from some receptacle inside
the case, had slipped back out of sight when the
pressure was removed from the rim.
“The watch of death!” mused the colonel. “I
must see how you are made inside, and I think
I'd better have a professional perform an autopsy
on you. I'll send for Kettridge. He knows all
about watches, though I question if he ever saw
one like this."
The colonel was about to use his telephone
when it rang and, answering it, he was told that
another visitor wished to see him.


The Colonel Wonders
223
"Not need them?"
“No. And I wish to pay you and thank you.
I'm ever so much obliged to you for what you
have done,”
"But I haven't done anything yet. I haven't
-Oh, I see. You are not satisfied with my work
on your behalf. Well, I can't say I blame you, for
really I haven't had time to give it as much con-
sideration as I'd like. Still that couldn't be
helped and—”
"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Colonel Ashley.
I am not at all dissatisfied,” and Mr. Grafton
held up a protesting hand. “The truth is, I'll
not need your services in helping me to recover
the diamond cross for Mrs. Larch-or Miss
Ratchford, as she calls herself since the separa-
tion. You can drop that case, Colonel.”
"Drop it?"
“Yes, the diamond cross has been recovered.
I just had a letter from Cyn—from Miss Ratch-
ford, saying she has the cross."
"She has the missing diamond cross?" fairly
cried the detective.
“Yes.”
“Where did she get it. Could Spotty_” The
colonel whispered the last name to himself and
then stopped short.
"I don't know. I just had a telegram from
her, and I am going to see her now to learn the


CHAPTER XVII
"A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW"
LLY GOOD FELLOW
"WELL," remarked Colonel Ashley briskly to
himself, “there are two or three things I've got
to do, and do them right away. Which shall
I tackle first? I wonder if it won't be best to
have Kettridge come here and perform the au-
topsy on that watch," and he looked toward the
closet where he had placed the one that had be-
longed to Singa Phut. "If I can look inside that,
and see whether or not the mechanism is so
obvious that Darcy must have stumbled on it
when he started to repair it-if he did—then-
well, that complicates matters. Yes, I think I
must see Kettridge."
Once more the colonel started toward his room
telephone, intending to summon the jeweler, who
was living over the store in Mrs. Darcy's rooms.
The colonel paused at the instrument, recall-
ing that, as he had been about to use it before
there had come in a call for him—the call an-
nouncing the department-store keeper.
But this time the instrument was mute, and
the colonel had soon asked central for the tele-
225


226
The Diamond Cross Mystery
phone in the apartments now occupied by Mr.
Kettridge. There was a period of waiting.
"I am ringing Marcy 5426 announced the
pleasant voice of the girl in the central office.
"Thank you,” responded the detective.
Another period of waiting, and again the an-
nouncement of the girl, though the colonel had
not manifested any impatience.
"Very well,” he responded. “There may be
no one at home."
It was evident, a little later, that at least no
one intended to answer the telephone, and the
colonel hung up he receiver.
“Well, Kettridge can wait,” he murmured, as
he carefully put away the watch, thinking, with
a sigh of regret, of poor little Chet. The dog
was a friendly animal and had made many friends
in the hotel.
"And so Miss Ratchford-to use her maiden
name—has the diamond cross back again," mused
the colonel. “But how in the world could she
get it, when Spotty had it, and the police that
are holding him have that, and he's resisting
extradition? Say, I wish I could go fishing !” and
the colonel shook his head in dogged impatience
at the tangle into which the affair had snarled
itself.
"Spotty must have robbed the jewelry store in
spite of what he says about it,” mused the


“A
227
Jolly Good Fellow"
Colonel. “But if he did, and got the cross,
even if he didn't kill Mrs. Darcy, how in the
world could he get the cross back to her when the
police took it away from him and when the last
I saw of it it was in the police headquarters safe?
"This certainly gets me! Oh Shag! is that
you?” called the colonel as he heard some one
moving out in the hall near his door.
“Yes, sah, Colonel !”
“You stay here until I come back. I'm going
out, and I don't know what time I'll be in. Be
careful to get straight any messages that come
in over the wire, and if Jack Young calls up get
the 'phone number of the place where he is so
I can call him.”
“Yes, sah, Colonel.”
"And, Shag!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel !"
“Hand me that little green book. I may have
to be up all night, and I want something to read
that will keep me awake," and the colonel
slipped into his coat pocket the green volume.
He was taking his fishing by a sort of “corre-
spondence school method" it will be observed.
The detective busied himself about his apart-
ment getting ready to go out, and from a suitcase
which was closed with a complicated lock he took
a number of articles which he stowed away in
various pockets of his garments.


228
101
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Is yo' gwine be out all night, Colonel ?” asked
Shag.
"I can't say. I'm going to do a bit of shadow
work and it may take me until sunrise. But you
stay right here.”
“Yes, sah, Colonel. I will."
“And now we'll see, Mr. Aaron Grafton,"
said the detective to himself, as he prepared to
leave, "whether you're telling the truth or not.
I think my one best bet is to follow you when
you go to see Miss Cynthia !”
But before the colonel could leave the room
there sounded the insistent ringing of his tele-
phone bell.
"I wonder if that can be Kettridge,” he
mused. “And yet he wouldn't know that I had
called him. Answer it, Shag,” he directed. "It
may be some one I don't care to talk to now.
Don't say I'm here until you find out who it is."
“Yes, sah, Colonel !”
The colored servant unhooked the receiver and
listened a moment. Then, carefully covering the
mouthpiece with his hand, he announced:
"It's Mr. Young, Colonel!"
"Is it! Good! Hold him! I'll talk with him!”
Quickly crossing the room the detective spoke
rapidly into the instrument.
"Hello, Jack! This is the colonel. Yes—what
is it? He is? That's unusual—for him. Guess


“A Jolly Good Fellow”
229
he's going down and out by the wrong route!
Yes, I'll come right away! You follow King
and I'll take the trail after Larch. So he's boast-
ing that, Well, all sorts of things may happen
now. Yes, I'm on my way now. You follow
King !"
The detective remained motionless for a few
seconds after he had slipped the receiver into its
hook. Then he said to Shag:
“Do you know where I ought to be now?”.
The colored man paused a moment before re-
plying. Then he played a safety shot by answer-
ing:
"No, sah, Colonel, I jest doesn't-zactly."
"Well, I ought to be getting ready to go fish-
ing. I'm sick of this whole business. I'm going
to quit! I never ought to have gone into it.
I'm too old. I told 'em that, but they wouldn't
believe me.”
“Too old to go fishin', sah, Colonel? No sah!
You'll never be dat! Never!"
"Oh, I don't mean fishing, Shag! I mean I
never ought to have been mixed up with this
affair—this detective business. I'm going to quit
now. Shag!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel!”
“Get me Kedge on the long distance."
"Mr. Kedge, in N' York, sah?"
“Yes. I'm going to turn this over to him. It's


230
The Diamond Cross Mystery
getting on my nerves. I want to go fishing. I'll
let him work out the rest of the problems. Get
Kedge on the wire.”
“Yes, sah, Colonel.”
The colored man went to the instrument, but
before he had engaged the attention of central
his master called :
"Oh, Shag!"
“Yes, sah, Colonel.”
"Wait a minute. I suppose Kedge is very
busy now?"
"Well, yes, sah, I s'pects so. He had dat ar'
animal case."
"Oh, you mean Mr. Campbell's?”
"Yes, sah! Dat's it. I knowed it was a camel
or a elephant."
"Yes, I suppose he's busy on that. So don't
bother him. Anyhow, it would take him as long
to get here, pick up the loose ends, and start out
right, as it would take me to finish.”
"Mo’so, Colonel,” voiced Shag. "A whole lot
mo'."
“Oh, well, hang it all! That's the way it is. I
never can get a little vacation. But now I'm in
this game I suppose I might as well stick!
Never mind that call, Shag! I'll finish this.”
“Yes, sah, Colonel."
A fact which the wise Shag had known all
along.


“A Jolly Good Fellow"
231
"For it's always good weather,
When good fellows get together!"
Over and over again the not unmusical strains
welled out from one of the private rooms, opening
off the grill of the Homestead. At times Larch
stopped at the entrance, smiling good-naturedly,
but with rather a cynical look on his clean-
chiseled but cruel face. More than once his eyes
sought those of Harry King, and the latter nodded
and smiled. He was spending money freely, but
was keeping himself well in hand, though a
waiter was at his side more often than at the
side of any of the others.
"How long has this been going on, Jack ?" asked
the colonel, who reached the hotel soon after his
talk with Shag.
"All the afternoon, I guess, and it looks as if
it would be all night.”
"So it does! I wish I'd never gotten into this
mess, but I can't get out now. Kedge would be
sure to spoil it after I've started things moving.
What especially did you want to tell me?"
"Well, King is in there, in his usual state-
dignified, of course, but how long he'll stay that
way I can't tell. It's Larch that puzzles me.”
“Yes, it isn't usual for him to make such a
congenial companion of himself with his cus-
tomers. But he's very different since his wife


234
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"What sort of present, Jack?”
"A diamond cross."
"What?" and the colonel had suddenly to modu-
late his voice or he would have attracted more
attention that he cared to. “A diamond cross?
Are you sure about that, Young?"
"Sure! Why not? I don't see anything queer
there. He might buy her a diamond cross as
a sort of foregiveness gift. Same idea Harry
King had you know, but a little higher class,
that's all.
"You know, Colonel, these things are about
alike. The man on Water Street gets drunk
and brings his wife home a quart of oysters as a
peace offering. The man on the boulevard does
the same thing and patches up the break with a
pearl pendant. It's all the same, only different."
“Yes, I suppose so. I didn't know you were
a philosopher, Jack.”
"I'm not. It's just common sense."
“But a diamond cross! And if Larch is losing
ing money"
“Oh, well, he may have held out some, or may-
be the diamond cross isn't so elaborate. You
know they take a lot of little diamonds now, set
'em in a cluster and make 'em look as good as
a solitaire. Anyhow Larch has been boasting to
King that there's to be a diamond cross present.
And there's another angle to it.”


236 The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Excuse me, Colonel, but you are wanted at
the telephone."
“All right. Where is it?”
“You can come right in here and have the
call transferred from our central,” and the man
opened the door of a small booth. The Home-
stead was honeycombed with private rooms, booths
and telephones.
“Yes, this is Colonel, Ashley” announced the
detective into the instrument, when his identity
had been questioned. “Who are you? Oh, Shag!
Yes, Shag, what is it? What's that—at the jew-
elry store you say? Well, will this never end?
Yes, I'll go there at once!"
"What is it?" asked Jack, as the colonel hung
up the receiver.
“Why, Kettridge telephoned to my room, and
Shag took the message and repeated it to me.
Sallie Page, the old servant of Mrs. Darcy has
just been killed by an electric shock in the jewelry
store !"


CHAPTER XVIII
AMY'S TEST
HOWEVER it was not quite as bad as that,
though Sallie Page had received a severe shock,
and had been near to death. Prompt action on
the part of the physician on the hospital ambu-
lance had started her feeble heart, which had been
affected by the current of electricity, to beating.
This, among other things, Colonel Ashley
learned when he hastened to the jewelry store
from the Homestead, leaving at the latter place
his trusty lieutenant, Jack Young, to look after
both Larch and Harry King, neither of whom
seemed likely to leave the place very soon.
“Tell me more about it,” said the colonel, when
he was sitting with Mr. Kettridge in the dimly-
lighted jewelry shop after Sallie had been taken
to the hospital. “What shocked her?"
"The same electric wires on the showcase that
shocked Miss Brill the other day. The elec-
tricians had been told to remove them, but had
not yet done so.”
"But I thought those wires were dead-cut-
after the other accident, Mr. Kettridge.”
237


238
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"So they were. But they can be supplied with
current from another source, it seems, and I was
the innocent cause of doing it.”
“You! How?"
"By throwing over a switch on the work bench
where James Darcy used to busy himself !”
"An electric switch on Darcy's work bench?”
“Yes, come and see for yourself. I've sent
for the electrician to come and rip out every-
thing. I'll have the place all wired over. It
was a makeshift job to begin with, and since
Darcy complicated the wires with some that he
hoped to run his electric lathe with, there is no
telling when one may get a shock.”
“How did it happen?” asked the colonel, as the
jeweler led the way to that part of the store
where Darcy had the repair bench, behind the
watch showcase. It was now close to midnight,
and the excitement over the accident to Sallie,
which had occurred after the closing hour for
the store, had subsided, not as much of a crowd
having gathered at that time of the evening as
would have done earlier.
“Well, it happened this way,” explained Ket-
tridge. “We're going to have a special sale of
a medium-priced line of goods to-morrow. I
was getting ready for it after the clerks had
gone-setting out the display and the like—when
I found I needed help.


Amy's Test
241
There was nothing for the colonel or Mr.
Kettridge to say or do, and they remained pass-
ive while Carroll took his time looking about.
Then he telephoned for Haliday of the prose-
cutor's office, and also for the chief electrician
of the police signal system, and all three spent
some time looking at the wires and testing them.
“What do you think about it?" asked Mr.
Kettridge of the colonel, when the store was
again dim and quiet.
"What do I think? I don't know! I'm going
to have a talk with Darcy in the morning, and if
I find he's been deceiving me- Well, I'll drop
his case, that's all.”
If Darcy simulated surprise when, the next
morning at the jail, told by the colonel of what
had happened to Sallie Page, the prisoner was
a consumate actor, the detective thought.
"Colonel Ashley!" Darcy exclaimed. “I never
knew that my lathe wires crossed or connected
with any circuit that might shock a person. It
is true I had the wires run in secretely, as I
didn't want my cousin to know about them. She
didn't favor my experiments on the electrical
lathe, and I had to keep quiet about it.
“But I never strung those wires to shock her,
and of course you can easily imagine I never
could plan to injure Sallie Page that way, or
the young lady who was knocked down the other
day.”


242 The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Well, Darcy, you may be telling the truth,
and, again, you may not,” and the colonel's
voice was as noncommittal as possible. “But
I am bound to point out to you that the prose-
cution will make the most of this, and that it
looks bad for you.”
“I know it does, Colonel. But I had no more
to do with my cousin's death than Carroll or
you. Nor have I the least suspicion who did
kill her. My God! what object would I have?''
and he turned and paced up and down.
"Well I'll do the best I can," said the colonel.
"But I must say it looks black. Then you never
knew your wires might, by the closing of the
switch on your table, shock some one standing
near the show case?”
"I never dreamed of it! The wires must have
been changed since I used them.”
"That will be looked into. And the stopping
of the clocks? Could your apparatus have done
that?”
"Never. It is true a strong electrical current
might, under certain circumstances, stop clocks,
as well as start them. But it would not stop all
the clocks in the store-or all that were going
—at different hours."
"Perhaps not. Well, I must see what I can
do. Carroll and Thong, with the prosecutor's
men, will use this for all it is worth. We must


Amy's Test
243
combat it somehow."
“Please find a way, Colonel! I was so hopeful
and—now—"
The young man could not go on for a moment
because of his emotion.
"Amy-Miss Mason—how does she take this?”
he faltered.
"She doesn't know it yet, I believe. It didn't
get in this morning's papers, but it will be in this
afternoon's.”
"I wish you could see her and explain. I-I
can't stand it to have her lose faith in me."
"I'll see what I can do. I'll put the best face
on it I can for her.”
"And you yourself, Colonel! You—you don't
believe me guilty because of this new develop-
ment, do you?”
"If I did I wouldn't still be handling your
case, Mr. Darcy," was the answer. “But I
don't say that there isn't something to explain.
I am, now, giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Then maybe Amy will do the same.”
It was not many hours before the colonel knew
this point. The first edition afternoon papers
had not long been out when the detective, who had
gone to his hotel after an early morning visit
to the jail, was telephoned to by Miss Mason.
"I happened to be in town, shopping," she
said, and the agitation was plainly audible in


244
The Diamond Cross Mystery
her voice, "when I saw this terrible thing about
Mr. Darcy's wires and poor Sallie. Is she in
any danger, Colonel ?”.
“I believe not.”
“That's good! May I come to see you? I
have something important to ask you."
“Yes, or I will come to see you, Miss Mason."
“No, I had rather come to your hotel, if you
will meet me in the ladies' parlor. It will be
secluded enough at this time.”
And a little later Amy and the colonel were
talking. The girl's haggard look told plainly
of her distress.
“Tell me, frankly,” she begged, "doesn't this
make it look a little worse for Mr. Darcy?"
“Yes, Miss Mason, it does. I had best be
frank with you. The prosecutor is bound to
show that the presence of the wires, controlled
by a switch from Mr. Darcy's table, were so
arranged that he might shock his cousin, or any
one who put his hands on the showcase. And
they will, undoubtedly, argue that he planned
this to make her insensible for his own purposes,
whether it was that he did it in a fit of passion
to kill her for his fancied troubles, or to cover
up a robbery. I am only making it thus bald
that you may know and face the worst.”
"I appreciate that, and I thank you. Then
it does look bad for him?”


Amy's Test
245
“It does.”
“And how does he bear up under it?”
“Very well. His chief anxiety is regarding
you. I realize this is a test of friendship, Miss
Mason. A test of both the loyalty of yourself
and your father, and—”.
"Oh, you needn't worry about dad! He'll
stick by Jimmie through thick and thin, for he
says he knows he's innocent.”
“And yourself? How does your loyalty meet
the test?”
Amy Mason drew herself up, a splendid figure
of beautiful womanhood. She flashed a look at
the detective that made him stand to his full
military height and bearing, and then she said:
“Do you think I'm going to let dad beat me?
Oh, no, Colonel Ashley!"
So Amy Mason met the test.


CHAPTER XIX
WORD FROM SPOTTY
"WELL," remarked Jack Young, as he critic-
ally observed the smoke from his cigar curling
upward toward the ceiling in the colonel's hotel
room, "we have our work cut out for us all
right.”
"I should say so!” agreed Mr. Kettridge, who
sat before a little table, on top of which were
strewed parts of a watch. Mr. Kettridge had
a jeweler's magnifying glass stuck in one eye,
and it gave him a most grotesque appearance as
he glanced from the wheels, springs and levers,
spread out in front of him, over to Colonel
Ashley.
“There is only one thing to do, gentlemen,"
observed the detective, who had one finger keep-
ing a certain place in a certain green book. “And
that is"
“Make an arrest at once!" exclaimed Young.
"He may get away from us if we don't, drunk
as he is.”
"No, there's time enough for that," objected
the colonel. “What I was going to say is that
246


Word From Spotty
247
we must take one thing at a time. Otherwise
we'll get into a tangle.”
"I think we're in one now,” said Young.
“For the life of me I can't figure out who did
the killing, and the only reason I said we ought
to arrest Harry King is because there's some
game on between him and Larch, and those dia-
monds King is trying to dispose of may be part
of some of those Mrs. Darcy had, and about which
she never said anything. If King took them, he
may have killed the old lady and he ought to
be locked up and take his chance with Darcy.”,
“If he did it-yes," admitted the colonel. "But
I haven't said he did. I haven't said Larch did
it. I just don't know. Certainly King and
Larch have been pretty thick of late, and Larch's
bailing Harry out showed there was more than
mere friendliness in it. And, as you say, Jack,
if King or Larch sold some loose diamonds, it
looks as though there was something wrong.
But we don't want to make a mistake."
"If we don't do something pretty soon they'll
so fasten this crime on Jimmie Darcy that you'll
never be able to get him out of the tangle," said
Mr. Kettridge, as he poked a pair of pliers among
the parts of the watch. “Carroll and Thong,
now that they know about the electrical wires,
think they have all the evidence they need, and
the prosecutor agrees with them, I guess.”


248 The Diamond Cross OSS
Mystery
"Still, we may be able to combat that,” ob-
served the colonel. “Now let me understand you
about this watch, Mr. Kettridge. You don't be-
lieve Darcy ever put that poison needle arrange-
ment in it?”
"No, I don't. That mechanism was built into
the watch after it was originally made, I'm sure.
But even so it was done a number of years ago.
I can tell that by the type of small screws used.
They don't make that kind in this country. Darcy
never could have got possession of any, to say
nothing of some of the other parts used.”
Following some days of strenuous work after
Amy Mason had expressed her belief in her love
er's innocence in spite of the finding of the elec-
tric wires, and had urged the detective to use
every endeavor to clear Darcy, the colonel had
summoned Mr. Kettridge to hold a sort of au-
topsy over the Indian watch which was still in
possession of the old detective. With the suicide
of the East Indian the case had been dropped
by Donovan and the authorities, they taking it for
granted that Singa Phut had killed Shere Ali
and then ended his own life, by help from out-
side in getting poison. So if Donovan thought
anything about the watch, he said nothing.
“Then you think Darcy is cleared of any con-
nection with the poison watch ?” asked the colonel.
"I think so-yes," answered the jeweler. "As


Word From Spotty
249
a matter of fact, I don't believe Jimmie did any
repair work on it at all. Singa Phut brought it
in to have it fixed, it is true, but Jimmie was a
great chap for promising work and then not hav-
ing it ready on time. I've known him to do
that more than once, and he lost Mrs. Darcy
customers that way. He probably promised Singa
Phut to have the watch ready for him, and then,
either in working on his pet invention, the elec-
tric lathe, or because of his quarrel with his
cousin, forgot about the East Indian's watch. He
may, as he says, have gotten up early to redeem
his promise to repair it.”
“But he never did ?” asked the colonel.
"It bears no evidence of it," and the jeweler
focused his glass on the dismembered timepiece.
"Do you think he knew the deadly nature of
the watch?" went on the detective.
"It is doubtful. This watch is of peculiar
construction. As I have showed you, the poison
needle could only be made to protrude when the
watch reached a certain time, which time could
be set in advance as an alarm clock is set. I
think this is what happened, though I may be
wrong.
“Singa Phut, for purposes of his own, had
this poisoned watch in his possession. He, of
course, knew just what it would do, and how to
set it so that if a person, at a certain hour, took


250
The Diamond Cross Mystery
it into his or her hands, and exerted any pressure
on the rim, the needle would shoot out and punc-
ture the flesh. The poison on the point then
caused death.”
“And very speedy death,” added the colonel.
“Witness what happened to poor little Chet. The
watch was wound up—I wound it myself as a
matter of fact, though I did not dream that the
time mechanism had anything to do with the
poisoned needle. Then the dog, playing with it,
as he would with a bone, bit on the rim, just at
the time when the needle was set to operate. It
shot out, punctured his lip, and Chet died.”
"Did you know it was a poisoned watch?”
asked Jack Young.
"I had guessed that after what happened, and
that is why I warned Donovan to be careful.
But, as I said, I thought it was like a sword
cane or a spring dagger—that only pressure on
a certain part was needed to force out the needle
with its death-carrying smear of some subtle
Indian poison. I never dreamed it was like an
alarm clock.”
"Well, it was," said Mr. Kettridge. “I can
easily see all the parts, now triat I have taken it
apart, and the time-setting arrangement is very
compact, simple and effective."
"You were careful not to scratch yourself on
the needle ?" asked the colonel quickly.


Word From Spotty
251
"Oh, yes indeed! I took that out first. But
do you think, Colonel, in spite of what I have
said about Jimmie not knowing how this watch
operated, and, presumably, not having done any
work on it—do you think he can have planned to
kill Mrs. Darcy with it?”
“Hardly. And yet it is possible that Mrs.
Darcy may have been killed by the watch.”
"Killed by it?—how?” gasped Jack Young.
"I thought she was stabbed, and her skull frac-
tured.”
“She had both those injuries, it is true. But
what is to have prevented her from having been
punctured by the watch just before she received
those hurts?
"I mean in this way," went on the colonel.
“We will assume that Singa Phut, finding some
trifling thing the matter with his devilish watch,
brought it to the Darcy shop, where he was fairly
well known.
“Darcy promised to fix the timepiece but
neglected or forgot to do it, leaving it on his
table. Then, remembering it early in the morning
-perhaps feeling guilty at having spent part of
the night working on his electric lathe-he got
up to do as he had promised, and—”.
"Finds his cousin dead !” interrupted Mr. Kete
tridge.
“So he says!" added Jack Young significantly,


252
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"Well, we won't go into that,” observed the
colonel. “I was going to make another point.
Leaving Darcy out of it, and assuming that he
had left the watch on his table intending to get
up in the morning and fix it, what is to have pre-
vented Mrs. Darcy from coming down to her
store-say, before midnight, after Darcy left her.
“She saw the watch on the table, and, pick-
ing it up, may have wound it. This set in mo-
tion the death-dealing mechanism, and her hand
may have been punctured with the poison.”
“But, even then," put in Young, as he puffed
out another cloud of smoke, “if the poison from
the watch killed her, why would any one strike
her on the head and stab her?”
“That may have occurred just after her hand
was punctured by the needle of the watch," said
the detective, “and before the poison had time
to work. It is not instantaneous.”
"But who would have struck or stabbed her
after that?" asked Mr. Kettridge. “I mean, of
course, leaving Jimmie out, for I don't believe
he did it."
"Could not Singa Phut have done it?" asked
Colonel Ashley quietly.
“Singa Phut!” cried both his auditors.
“Yes. Suppose, after he had left the watch
to be repaired with young Darcy, the East Indian
happened to think that he had not warned against


Word From Spotty
253
winding it up, which a jeweler would be most
apt to do after making repairs. Singa Phut had
no reason for wishing harm to Darcy. He may
have come to the store late at night intending to
warn him to be careful.”
“Well, assuming that, what next?" asked Jack
Young.
"Well, Singa, coming say at eleven o'clock to
the jewelry store, finds Mrs. Darcy there. She
has picked up the watch-she must have done
that, for it was in her hand. Singa sees it and
fearful of what might happen he rushes in and
tries to take it away from her. She, thinking
him a thief, resists and he, fearful that he will
be caught and arrested as a robber, struggles to
get the watch and to make his escape.
"Now remember that he is of excitable nature,
that he is a foreigner, fearful of our laws, and
that he knows the deadly nature of the poison in
the watch. Could not he have both struck Mrs.
Darcy with the hunter statue and stabbed her in
trying to get away from her ? That would ac-
count for the killing."
"But there would have been an alarm—the
struggle would have made a noise," objected
Jack Young
"Yes, but there are not many people passing
the store around midnight. Every one in the
place had gone to bed—the sleeping rooms are


Word From Spotty
255
es
"I agree with you. You say he and Larch
have been looking at a packet of diamonds ?”
“Yes; diamonds wrapped in those little squares
of white paper that jewelers use. Looks like
they'd been robbing a gem store."
“You don't know of any diamonds missing
from Mrs. Darcy's stock, do you?” asked the
colonel of Mr. Kettridge. "Mr. Young and I
talked of this before but didn't settle it.”
"No. But then she may have had a private
stock of which Darcy nor I knew nothing. It
is a point worth looking into."
"I agree with you. So stick to Harry, Jack,
my boy."
"He won't require much sticking to at present.
He and Larch are both so well pickled that they'll
easily keep until morning."
"Well, watch them after that. Maybe you'd
better put up at the Homestead.”
"I will, though I guess it won't be the Home-
stead long.”
"Why not?”
"Well, Larch is going to lose it, I hear. It's
mortgaged up to the roof and he can't meet his
payments. The old place has gone to the bow-
wows since he started drinking, gambling, specu-
lating and since his wife left him. All the decent
crowd stopped coming."
“Yes, I suppose so," agreed the colonel. “Well,


256
The Diamond Cross Mystery
keep watch of Harry King. He may provide us
with a clew that will make it possible to prove
Darcy innocent more directly than by the infer-
ence of Singa Phut.”
“And do you think Singa Phut killed his part-
ner with the watch also, Colonel?" asked Jack.
"No. I imagine they quarreled over the pos-
session of the watch, and Shere Ali, perhaps for-
getting the deadly nature of it, or knowing the
time mechanism was set not to go off for some
hours, grabbed it away from Singa. Then came a
quarrel and the killing with the candlestick. How-
ever I don't want to speculate too far afield.
We have certain matters settled at any rate.”
“Yes, and I'll get back to the Homestead and
watch King," observed Jack Young with a laugh.
"And I must get back to the shop," said Mr.
Kettridge. “I have some work to do. Shall I
leave the watch apart this way, Colonel ?”
“Yes, I may need it to show to the jury.
Leave it as it is, but put it under glass, and the
needle away carefully. We may have to kill a
rat in court as we did in Singa Phut's cell.”
"I think we are coming on," mused Colonel
Ashley, when his two visitors had gone. “I am
entitled to a bit of recreation," and, opening his
book, he read:
"Thus you having found and fitted for the
place and depth thereof, then go home and pre-


Word From Spotty
257
pare your ground-bait, which is, next to the fruit
of your labors, to be regarded.”
"I wonder,” mused the colonel, "if my ground
bait is all prepared? Am I right or wrong? If
I could see the diamond cross that Grafton says
Larch sent back to his wife-if I knew where he
got it
The telephone rang.
"Yes, what is it?”
"A telegram for you, Colonel.”
“Send it up!!”
Tearing open the envelope Colonel Ashley read:
"Spotty Morgan has confessed everything and
agrees to extradiction. Shall we send him on?”
"Send him on? I should say so!” cried the
colonel to himself, as he made a grab for the
telephone to dictate a message telling the police
of Sango, the Western city, to hold Spotty Mor-
gan until he could come for him. "And so
Spotty has confessed? Well, that let's me out,
even if he did save my life! But it was a close
call!”


In the Shadows
261
Prosecutor ?" asked the court in formal tones.
"May it please your Honor," began Mr. Bar-
don, “I had hoped to move the case of the State
against James Darcy, indicted for murder, but,
at the last minute, I find that one of my important
witnesses is unable to be in attendance and, under
those circumstances, I am compelled to ask for an
adjournment of two weeks.
“I regret, as regards the counsel on the other
side, having to do this, as he assures me he is
ready and anxious to go to trial, but it is un-
avoidable, and I promise this, that if the witness
referred to is not here two weeks from to-day, I
will go on with the case anyhow."
"Have you anything to say, Mr. Kenneth ?”
asked the judge of Darcy's lawyer.
"Only that I regret the delay as much as does
the prosecutor, and that we will be ready any
time. I should prefer to go on with the trial
now, but I realize that the matter is out my
hands."
“The case then stands adjourned for two
weeks,” announced the court, and the officer,
arising, announced:
“The case of the State against James Darcy
postponed for two weeks, and all witnesses for
the prosecution and for the defence will then ap-
pear without further notice."
There was a hum of disappointment, and most


262
The Diamond Cross Mystery
of the crowd filed out when the prosecutor moved
a case of assault and battery. Darcy, with a
look at Amy Mason, which she returned with one
of assurance and confidence, was taken back to
jail.
Colonel Ashley read:
"Let your bait be as big a red worm as you
can find.”
"Spotty is certainly red,” mused the fisher-
man. He was sitting, after the adjournment, in
his hotel room. “Red and freckled. As for
bait-"
Musingly he closed the little green book and
watched the smoke curl lazily from his cigar.
Several days went by. The colonel was seated
in his hotel room, his finger between the leaves
of a little green book, smoking and reading. The
telephone rang sharply.
"Hello. Oh, it's you, is it, Basset. So you got
back with Spotty, did you? Good! No trouble
on the trip? Fine! All right, I'll wait here for
you. No, the trial went off for two weeks.
You're in plenty of time. I'll expect you soon.
Good-bye.”
An hour later the man he had sent West to
bring on Spotty Morgan entered his room. This
man, a detective from the colonel's office, had
been instructed by wire to go to a certain city
and there, without the formality of requisition


In the Shadows
263
h
papers, which Spotty more or less generously
waived, bring on the prisoner.
"Well, what does he say, Basset ?" asked the
colonel, when he had provided his man with a
cigar. "What does he say?" and the voice was
eager.
"Oh, he says he did it all right. And there's
the cross,” and Basset tossed on the table beside
the colonel a battered cross of gold in which
sparkled many stones with the limpid fire of
hidden rainbows.
“Did he give any particulars?”.
“Oh, yes, he come across with the whole story."
“What made him hold back on me then? He
might have known I'd find out. Why didn't he
confess to me, Basset?”
"Well, I guess it's just as he says—he didn't
want to split on a pal. But when his pal went
back on him—"
“What do you mean—his pal went back on
him?" asked the colonel, and there was uneasi-
ness in his voice. “And, while you're about it,
Basset, don't handle that cross so carelessly. It's
worth several thousand dollars—a small fortune
maybe—and some of the stones may be loose.
They might fall out."
"That wouldn't hurt, Colonel. I reckon maybe
I did lose one or two on the way back, careless
like."


266
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"But, stars and stripes! I didn't want him for
this little robbery job!” cried the colonel. “I
didn't even know he did it! I was after him
for the murder of Mrs. Darcy, where I thought
he got the diamond cross. And to think the
jewels are paste !" and the colonel looked at them
sparkling in the electric light as bravely as though
they were worth a fortune instead of being what
a poor shop girl might wear to a bricklayer's ball.
“Well, that's all I know about it,” said Basset.
"Spotty wanted me to tell you he'd confessed,
and he's dead sore on Blue Ike."
For several seconds the colonel said nothing,
and then he shook his head as a dog might on
emerging from deep water, and remarked:
"Well, I've got to take another tack, I guess.
Tell Spotty I'll arrange to have him bailed. It'll
be easy on a mere theft charge. But how in
thunder am I going to get Darcy off if I haven't
any one to offer—”
The tinkle of the telephone bell interrupted
the colonel's half-aloud musing.
"Hello,” he said into the transmitter. "Oh, that
you, Jack? Well, what's up now?”.
For a moment the colonel listened intently,
many emotions flashing across his face. Basset
toyed idly with the jeweled cross, which sparkled
as bravely as the real stones might have done.
“Yes— yes,” said the colonel impatiently. "Go
on, Jack!"


268
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Want to say where you're going?”
“I suppose I'd better. I'm going to Pompey."
"Out where you said Mrs. Larch is staying?”
"Yes, only she doesn't call herself that now."
“I understand.”
"She's taken her maiden name again since the
separation. Yes, I'm going to Pompey, and it
may be night when I got there. I'll have to do
my shadowing among the shadows I guess, as
I've often cast for trout. But, dark or light, I
think I'll bring home the right fish this time.”
And so, as the early shadows of the late after-
noon were slanting over Colchester the old detec-
tive boarded a train, keeping in view a well-
dressed, freshly-shaven individual, who, for all
his slickness and sleekness, seemed to have about
him the air of a tiger. His hands, in new gloves,
slowly clasped and unclasped, as though he would
have liked to twine the fingers about the soft
throat of a victim.
"Yes," murmured the colonel, as he sank into
his seat, "I think I'll bring home the big fish
this time.”


272
The Diamond Cross Mystery
"No, I suppose not,” and the colonel smiled.
“Well, hurry along Sonny, and here's an extra
quarter for you, I'll follow you and you can let
me see the answer before you go back to my
friend. It would be too bad if he and I went
fishing in separate places. I want to be with him.”
"Where's your hooks and line?” asked the boy.
"Oh, I have them in my pocket—the hooks and
line,” and the colonel grimly tapped a pocket
“You can cut a pole in the woods," said the
boy. "I've done it lots of times.”
“Of course," agreed the colonel, smiling.
The boy sped away over the fields. The detec-
tive followed more slowly until he reached the
collection of houses, and there he strolled along,
inspecting the different dwellings as though at-
tracted by the quaint old village street.
It was not long before the boy returned, an
envelope held conspicuously in his hand. He
smiled as he caught sight of the colonel.
The shadows were lengthening.
"It's too late for fishing now," observed the
boy as, unwittingly, he handed over the missive.
“That is, unless you're going to set night lines.”
"I may have to do that,” the detective agreed.
“But it won't be quite dark yet for some time."
He glanced quickly at the envelope. It bore
no address on its plain, white surface, and under


Swirling Waters
273
pretence of turning, so as to take advantage of
the last golden glow in the west, the colonel
quickly read the letter. As he did so a look,
almost of fright, came over his face.
"I wonder if she'll keep her word,” he mur-
mured. “I wonder—”
He slipped the letter quickly into another plain
envelope, one of a miscellaneous collection of
papers in his pocket, and returned it to the boy,
retaining the covering he had been obliged to
tear open, for it had been sealed.
“There you are,” he said. “And you needn't
say anything to my friend about the fishing. I
want to surprise him. Just don't say anything
about me.
“And here's half a dollar, Sonny. Could I
hire you to take me to that brook you spoke of,
where you say there are such big fish?”!
"Sure you could,” the boy answered eagerly, as
he pocketed the money. “I know a lot about
fishing.”
"All right. I may call on you. Trot along
now, and remember—don't say anything. This
is to be a surprise!"
"Sure, I know," and with a precocious wink
the lad passed on into the ever lengthening
shadows.
"I think,” observed the colonel to himself, as
he watched the boy making his way back toward
VWS.


Swirling Waters
275
“Can it be?” exclaimed the colonel. “No, it's
Aaron Grafton,” he proceeded with an air of re-
lief. “He must have been at her house, and she
has asked him to follow her, to make sure no
harm is done. A bit foolish of him, under the
circumstances. But when a man's in love"
The colonel shrugged his shoulders and chuckled
grimly.
“However, I must take care that he does not
see me."
Slipping behind a tree, the colonel effected a
change in hats, for he always wore a soft one
and carried several collapsible ones. Then, but-
toning his coat rather askew about him, to give
a careless air to his attire (the colonel, normally
was one of the neatest men living) he crossed
to the other side of the street and then became
the shadower of two instead of one, for Aaron
Grafton had passed on without, apparently, notic-
ing him.
The woman was still in sight, and before she
reached the station the man who had sent the
note came out and met her on the driveway. The
colonel looked back and saw Mr. Grafton dodg-
ing behind a tree.
"He doesn't want to be seen, either,” he
mused.
Relying on his simple but effective disguise,
the colonel made bold to walk within hearing dis-


276
The Diamond Cross Mystery
tance of the man and woman, the latter having
come to a stiff halt when she saw the man ad-
vancing to meet her.
“We can't talk here,” said the dispatcher of
the note. “Will you walk a little way with me?"
His tones had the cutting coldness of steel, and
there was a sort of restrained cruelty in his every
action.
"I suppose it would not be wise to be seen talk-
ing to you here,” was the woman's low reply.
"And, believe me, I have no desire to be seen
with you again, ever. It was only your promise
in the note that brought me here. Are you pre-
pared to keep it if I walk a way with you?”
“I am! This is no more pleasant for me than
for you, but it must be done. Come !"
He did not offer to touch her, nor did he turn
his head more than half way in speaking to her.
He seemed to be controlling himself by an effort,
and she seemed to shrink away. Again she
looked back, down the fast-darkening street, as
though to make sure there was a way of escape-
some one near on whom she could rely.
"Don't worry. I'll be there when you have
your little talk,” whispered the colonel to himself.
"Suppose we walk up on The Heights,” sug-
gested the man. “We will not be disturbed, and—”
"Up there?” she gasped.
“Why not?” he asked, as they walked on, and


Swirling Waters
277
the colonel, affecting a slowness in gait, heard
the words. "Just because you used to walk there:
in your—in other days," he substituted quickly,
“is no reason why you shouldn't now, is it?”
“Only-memories!” Her voice was very low.
"Memories ? Bah!" The words were as
though he spewed them from his mouth like a
bitter taste. “Come on!" and his tones were
rough.
The woman looked at him a moment with eyes
that seemed to burn through her veil, and then
followed. The colonel passed on ahead, slouched
across the street once more, and lagged behind,
so that he might follow.
The couple turned toward the outskirts of the
village, where, on a hill, known locally as “The
Heights” there was a grove of trees. Below the
hill, at one place cutting deep into it and making
a precipitious cliff, was a little river. At the
point where the stream had bitten into the hill
it had washed for itself a defile, the bottom rock-
covered, so that the waters swirled over it in
foam.
The Heights was the favorite trysting place of
lovers, and many were the pleasant spots there.
With evening coming on, it was almost sure to
be deserted, though later, if there was a moon,
murmuring voices would mingle with the eclipse
of the swirling waters in the gully below.


278
The Diamond Cross Mystery
“Yes, it's a quiet place for a talk," mused the
colonel.
The man and woman passed on. Behind them
came the shadower, and behind him Aaron Graf-
ton.
Up The Heights walked the leading pair, seem-
ingly unaware of the presence of any one but
themselves. Into the shadows they strolled, still
stiff and uncompromising, both of them. At
last the woman, halting near the edge of the cliff,
beyond which the woods were thicker, faced the
man.
"This is far enough,” she said, and she turned
so that the fast-fading light of the west was on
her veiled face. She did not raise the mesh.
"Yes, this is far enough, I suppose," said the
man, and there was a sneer in his tones. “Too
far, perhaps. But—”
"I did not come here to discuss anything with
you but the matter you spoke of in your note,”
cut in the woman. “Did you bring my diamonds
as you promised ?”
"Yes, I have them.”
His voice was as cold as hers.
“Then give them to me and let me go. I
don't know why I consented to meet you, except
that you said you would give them only to me,
personally. And I don't, even for that, know
why I came here. I—".


280
The Diamond Cross Mystery
screen of bushes, he could see and hear, watched
closely.
"Foolishness?" the woman questioned.
“Yes, foolishness! You know the trouble I'm
in. I've got to have money! You can get it
for me!"
"I?”
“Yes. And, by the eternal, you've got to!
Do you think I'm going to ruin just because
you couldn't stand a little rough treatment now
and then? Why, better women than you would
be glad to come back to me. I'll take you back!”
“Take me back! Oh, my God!”.
“Cut out that hysterical stuff!” he ordered.
“I'm desperate! I've got to have money. I
can raise it on a note if you'll sign it and put
up those bonds for security, and by—".
He caught her wrist in a grip that made her
wince with pain as he swung her around to
face him.
"I've got to have your signature and the
bonds !” he exclaimed in voice tense with sup-
pressed passion.
"The bonds!” she exclaimed. “You know
what almost became of them. I let you raise
money on them once, and almost lost them. Now
you dare ask me for them again?”.
"I do, and I'm going to enforce my demands!
I've got to have money. I darn't sell your dia-


282 The Diamond Cross Mystery
gling to retain his balance. “What's this? Who
the devil are you, to come between me and
my_”
"Don't dare profane that name !" warned the
woman. "I-I- Oh, Aaron! where are you?"
It was very dark now, under the trees.
"Ha! So that's who he is! Your old lover,
Grafton! Well, I'll soon finish him! I'll make
him wish he hadn't come between us with his
protecting ways, and his diamond cross that he
goes so secretly to have mended. Bah! A
pretty lover! Take that, you sneaking fool!”
There was a sliver of flame in the darkness,
and mingled with the report came a cry of anguish
and a woman's scream, as a heavy stick in the
hands of Colonel Ashley broke the hand that
held the revolver.
A little thud among the bushes told where
the weapon had fallen, its bullet cutting the tree
branches overhead.
"Oh-who—who are you? gasped the woman,
as the colonel stepped between her and the man
he had maimed. “I thought Mr. Grafton was—"
"I think that is he coming now," said the old
detective quietly, as the sound of some one run-
ning up the path was borne to their strained
senses.
"Look here!" snarled the man with the brok
en wrist, as he clasped it with his other hand,


Swirling Waters
283
aren't you—” he started back as a last flicker
of the waning light fell across the colonel's face.
"Who in the name of all the devils in hades
are you?” he cried. “What right have you—"
"The right of the law," was the quiet answer.
The colonel's hand slipped into his pocket, where
something metallic clicked. “The right of the
law. Langford Larch, I arrest you for the
murder of Mrs. Amelia Darcy!"
It was so still for a moment that the rustle
of a bird's wings in the tree overhead sounded
like the rushing of wind. Colonel Ashley, draw-
ing something from his pocket, took a step nearer
the maimed man. As he did so Larch laughed
wildly.
“Ah, so that's the game, is it?" he cried.
"You have betrayed me, Cynthia, you she-devil!
You put up this little game with your lover
Grafton, did you? Well you—"
“Langford, I never—!".
“Bah! Well, I'll fool you all! Arrest me for
murdering the old woman, will you? Like hell
you will!"
He stepped back a pace, Colonel Ashley fol-
lowing.
"Keep back!” cried Larch. “If you touch me
—! I'm not afraid of you. Yes, I did kill
her! I didn't mean to, but I did. The game's
up! I can see that. But you'll never get me to


284
The Diamond Cross Mystery
the chair. I'll fool you all! I'm not afraid to
die!"
Before the colonel or Aaron Grafton, who just,
then burst through the bushes fringing the path,
could make a move to prevent him, Langford
Larch, with a cry like that of a stricken beast,
threw himself over the edge of the rocky precipice,
and his body went crashing down a hundred feet
into the swirling waters below,


CHAPTER XXII
HIS LAST CASE
SLOWLY the bruised and cut lips moved. Faintly
came from the maimed throat a hoarse whisper.
"I—did—it! I know this is the end. I'll
confess everything !"
Before his death, which followed soon after
he had been taken from the swirling waters,
Langford Larch made a complete confession,
telling how he had killed Mrs. Darcy.
Swiftly went the news to the jail, and later to
the courthouse, whence, after a conference be-
tween the grave judge and a somewhat disap-
pointed, though perhaps gladly so, prosecutor of
the pleas, James Darcy walked forth a free man,
honorably discharged from the custody of the
court, the indictment against him for murder
quashed.
Amy Mason was the first to greet her lover
when he stepped away from the bench of the
judge, before which he stood to hear himself
cleared of the charge.
"Oh, Jimmie boy! I'm so glad !” and her eyes
beamed.
285


288
The Diamond Cross Mystery
pected by few, he needed a large sum in cash.
One night, partly intoxicated, which was un-
usual for him, and perhaps on this occasion
done in desperation, Larch called at the jewelry
store. Mrs. Darcy happened to come down-
stairs as he arrived, and, knowing him well,
admitted him, though the store had long been
closed. In one hand she held the Indian watch,
perhaps picked up idly from the repair table.
In the other hand was the diamond cross.
This ornament Larch instantly demanded, but
Mrs. Darcy refused to give it up, not only on
account of his condition, but because she did not
consider that he had any claim to it, knowing
that it had been his wife's before their marriage.
Larch was insistent in his demands, and tried
to take the diamond cross from Mrs. Darcy.
She resisted him in the dimly-lighted and de-
serted store, and he caught up the paper-cutter
dagger and threatened her.
She backed away from him, toward the open
safe, intending, it would seem, to put the valu-
able ornament in there and lock it up, when
Larch struck at her. As he did so, he knocked
down the heavy statue of the hunter. It struck
her on the head, inflicting what would have
proved a mortal blow, even without the knife
thrust.
As the statue fell Larch leaned forward to


His Last Case
289
grasp it, he said, but he slipped and the knife
in his hand entered her side, and she fell on it,
driving it deeper in. Larch declared he never
meant to kill, or even seriously hurt, Mrs. Darcy.
But he did kill her.
Seeing her lying, as he then thought, only
perhaps seriously wounded, Larch, taking the
diamond cross, staggered around the jewelry
shop, and then fled panic-stricken, went to the
Homestead, and drank himself into a stupor.
Incidentally Larch's confession cleared up other
matters, and shifted certain responsibilities from
various persons. The Indian watch, though im-
pregnated with poison, had nothing to do with
the death of Mrs. Darcy, though she might have
been slightly scratched by the hidden needle.
And the money Harry King went out and got
the night of the murder was given him, as he
boasted at the time, by a woman. He refused
to name her, but she was named later, when
King's wife filed a petition for a divorce-not
her first by the way.
"Well, Colonel," remarked Mr. Mason, as
together they strolled toward a trout stream, ser
eral days after the clearing up of the diamond
cross mystery, "I'm glad to know you had the
same faith in young Darcy that I had.”
"Oh, yes, there couldn't be any other way
out. Jimmie boy, as your Amy calls him


290
The Diamond Cross Mystery
bless her heart-was a bit careless, but that was
all. Some of his wires that he rigged up for
his electric lathe, secretly, did get tangled with
the heavily-charged conductors of the lighting
system, though he didn't know that. It may be
they were responsible for the shocks given. I
didn't go into that deeply. And Darcy didn't
repair Singa Phut's watch when he said he
would. It was in getting up early to do this
and have the timepiece ready when promised,
that he discovered his relative's dead body."
"Where did Harry King get that odd coin which
made it look bad in his case for a while?" asked
Mr. Mason.
"Larch gave it to him, unsuspectingly enough,
it seems. When Larch went into Mrs. Darcy's
store she had the tray of rare coins out of the
safe. She may have been going to put them
away with the Indian watch and the diamond
cross, but she had no chance. And after Larch
had killed her, seeing the money, he picked up
a handful, as he needed some change. In a way
the discovery of the odd coin helped in solving
the mystery, for I kept my helper, Jack Young,
at the Homestead after that, and it was hearing
King and Larch talking about the diamond cross
that gave me just the clew I wanted.
"Larch had taken out the valuable diamonds
from the ornament, and had disposed of them,


292
The Diamond Cross Mystery
would not press the charge against Spotty for
stealing the imitation diamond cross. So Spotty
will soon be at liberty again.”
"I'm glad of that. He's a sport-in his own
way.”
“Yes," agreed the colonel.
"One point puzzles me,” went on Mr. Mason,
"and that is, why Cynthia—I call her that for
I've known her for years—why she didn't make
Larch support her after the separation. She
could have had a regular divorce and big ali-
mony—that is if he could have paid.”
"Maybe that's it-he couldn't. Anyhow, she
seems not to have wanted to accept any of his
money after he had spoiled her life. It was a fool-
ish marriage, though at the time it may have
seemed advantageous to her—or her mother. After
the murder, or let us call it killing, for Larch with
his last breath protested he never meant it-
after that, which Cynthia seems to have guessed-
she was even more strong in her determination
not to take any of his money. She was prepared,
too, in case Jimmie had been found guilty, to
make a statement implicating her husband, though,
under the law she could not be compelled to
testify against him in a murder trial.”
"Well, I'm glad it's all over, Colonel,” said
Mr. Mason, with a sigh of relief. “There are
two happy ones, if ever there were any," and
een


294
The Diamond Cross Mystery
ON-
deserted street to watch him, and, stopping the
timepieces, moved the hands of many of them to
suit his fancy. But he forgot the ticking watch.”
“It was simple,” murmured Darcy. “No won-
der I didn't think of it. Have you so simple a
theory regarding the queer state I was in that
night-I mean awakening and going to sleep
again after feeling something brush my face?”
“Not unless Larch tried to chloroform you
after he had killed Mrs. Darcy, and was afraid
you might come down and discover what had
happened,” answered the detective. "That will re-
main a mystery, but its solution is not important."
“Not as long as you have cleared Jimmie boy!"
laughed Amy, and yet there was a look of sad-
ness on her face, for it had been an ordeal for
all of them.
"Oh, well, he'd have been cleared anyhow, if
the worst had come to the worst,” said the colonel.
"However, now that it's all over, I can give proper
attention to my fishing."
"And I," murmured James Darcy, "can"
But a soft hand over his lips prevented further
utterance.
Lightly as a feather the colonel flicked a fly
over the quiet pool where the waters swirled in
a lazy eddy. There was a splaslı in the sun, a
shrill song of the reel, and a fish leaped high in