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MYSTERY
RED FLAME
OF THE
GEORGE BARTON



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THE MYSTERY
OF
THE RED FLAME


WYMIAU
By GEORGE BARTON
THE MYSTERY OF THE
RED FLAME
Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $1.50
THE WORLD'S GREATEST
MILITARY SPIES AND
SECRET SERVICE AGENTS
Cloth decorative, 12mo, illustrated, $2.00
DES
BROEREREBBEROORBE
THE PAGE COMPANY
53 BEACON STREET, BOSTON
Luonnon
Dr.






con
“THE NOTE WAS CRUSHED BETWEEN HER CLENCHED
FINGERS"
(See page 83)


tan B
wee
BA
3
'I's serasi Wis; sy
. vervonents, siu.





B
yumu
D
yanan
Doorut
he Mystery
of
Red Flame
D
BY
GEORGE BARTON
Author of
“The World's Greatest Military Spies and
Secret Service Agents,” etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
CHARLES E. MEISTER
DDDDDDDDDDD
UNDO
SPU
LEVIS
ger
(PA
THE PAGE COMPANY
BOSTON . MDCCCCXVIII
ILLEROS
rkualidad


TO
FRANCIS LYNDE
FRIEND AND CRITIC





CHAPTER
·
·
·
·
·
CONTENTS
PAGE
I THE STAR OF THE SOUTH . . . . I
II HEDGEWATER HOUSE . . . . . . 12
III DORA WHARTON . . . . . . . 23
IV I MEET JULES JACQUETTE . . . . 33
V THE MAN BEHIND THE HEDGE . .
VI THE POOL OF FLAME . . . . . . 59
VII Dora RECEIVES A LETTER . . .
VIII BEHIND GREAT HERCULES . .
IX MORE MYSTERY . . . . . . . 94
X THE THIRTEENTH TRUNK ..
XI VICTOR JAYNE SPEAKS . . . . . 121
XII A SURPRISE FROM BRAZIL . . .
XIII I AM DENOUNCED AS A SPY , . .
XIV BEHIND THE SUMMER-House . . .
XV I QUIT THE HOUSE OF MYSTERY . . .
XVI THE MOTH AND THE FLAME . . . . 191
XVII HOUSE OF A HUNDRED KEYS . . . . 204
XVIII THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER . . . . .
XIX AMY SMITH'S STORY . . . . . .
XX THE GENTLE ART OF SMUGGLING . . 244
XXI THE THIRD LINK . . . . . . . 255
XXII THE BURIED TREASURE . . . . . 271
XXIII I CHASE JULES JACQUETTE . . . . 280
XXIV THE RED FLAME AGAIN . . . . . 293
XXV JACQUETTE'S STORY . . . . . . 311
XXVI I AM FORGIVEN . . . . . . . . 330
·
·
178
220
231
:





LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
“THE NOTE WAS CRUSHED BETWEEN HER
CLENCHED FINGERS” (See page 83)
Frontispiece
“THE DIAMOND'S GONE!'” . . . 99
“I JUMPED TO MY FEET IN MY EXCITE-
MENT” . . . . . . 117
“ I ACCUSE YOU OF BEING A SPY!”". . 158
“I FELL TO THE FLOOR UNCONSCIOUS” . 310
“'THE DEAREST WISH OF MY LIFE . . . HAS
BEEN TO LIVE IN WASHINGTON'” . 335
29


THE MYSTERY
OF
THE RED FLAME
CHAPTER I
THE STAR OF THE SOUTH
This is a plain, unvarnished tale of an exciting
adventure which occurred to me while I was in
the United States Customs Service. There were
phases of it which were never known to the public
at the time and there were reasons — diplomatic
reasons — which made it necessary that we should
work under cover. But these reasons no longer
exist and I am betraying no official confidences and
injuring no innocent persons when I now — as I
propose to do— give the complete and authentic
story to the world.
How much it meant to the Government I was
serving and how much it meant to myself the
reader must determine as we proceed. It may be
said that I was at fault in some of the methods
that were employed. Maybe I was. I can only


2 The Mystery of the Red Flame
ask, What would you have done if you had been in
my place? I can simply lay the facts before you,
without the slightest reservation, and ask you how
you would have acted under the same circum-
stances.
I had just taken the oath of office as a Special
Agent of the United States Treasury Department
when I received a hurry call from the Collector of
Customs of the district. As the colored messenger
ushered me into the somber-looking office I felt as
if I had unexpectedly intruded upon a lodge of
sorrow. Collector Fread sat at his desk, frowning
and twirling his eyeglasses, with the air of a man
who is at his wits' ends. .
Bromley Barnes, the veteran investigator of the
service, sat opposite the Collector, and it is signifi-
cant when I say that it was the first time I had
seen him without a smile on his amiable face. His
thumbs were stuck in the armpits of his vest and
his eyebrows were knitted as if he were trying to
solve a difficult problem by mere force of will.
The Appraiser of Merchandise, the Chief In-
spector, and the boarding officer of the port were
ranged about the desk with looks of expectancy on
their faces.
As I entered, the Collector rose from his chair
and paced the room nervously. He was a medium-


The Star of the South
sized man, wearing a black frock coat and care-
fully creased trousers. He stroked his luxuriant
brown mustache as he moved up and down the
room, and swung his tortoise-shell glasses from the
end of a long black ribbon.
The Collector was a bit pompous in his manner
and inclined to be oratorical in his speech. Yet he
fitted into his surroundings as a picture fits into a
frame that has been specially made to hold it.
The walls were covered with portraits of former
collectors of the port and in the corner was a large
mahogany grandfather's clock, whose ticking was
the only sound to break the silence that had fallen
over the little group of men. The Collector paused
presently, and carefully adjusting the tortoise-shell
glasses on his nose peered at me aggressively. He
pointed to a vacant chair.
“Sit down and listen.”
I obeyed, wonderingly. He walked over to his
own chair and pulling up his trousers so that the
crease would not be disturbed began to talk to me
in a voice and with the manner of a man who is
making an address to a large and unsympathetic
audience.
“One of the chief purposes of this office," he de-
clared, “is to collect duty upon articles shipped
from Europe into the United States. These arti-


4 The Mystery of the Red Flame
cles include diamonds. Now I have reason to be-
lieve that diamonds are being systematically smug-
gled into this port. I have so informed my men,
but in spite of their vigilance the smuggling con-
tinues. Barnes, here, who is reputed to be one of
the shrewdest men in the service, has been on the
job and still the smuggling goes on. Am I stating
the case correctly, sir?”.
Thus addressed, the veteran investigator broke
into the oration with an evident sense of relief.
“ The Collector," he said in his clear, crisp man-
ner, “is especially provoked by a case that has oc-
curred within the last twenty-four hours. A week
ago we had a cablegram from the confidential agent
of the Treasury Department located at Rio Janeiro,
Brazil, stating that a passenger — whose name was
not given — had sailed on the Dom Pedro with a
large quantity of precious stones. That in itself
was not unusual, but it was also stated that this
collection included the famous Red Diamond known
as The Star of the South.”
“The Star of the South," I repeated mechani-
cally.
“Yes," continued Barnes, with a trace of im-
patience. “You have made a study of diamonds
and precious stones and you must have heard of
this famous stone."


The Star of the South
5
“I have," I replied, hesitatingly, “in a general
sort of way.”
“Well," continued the old man with a sigh of
resignation, "you are probably aware that aside
from South Africa, Brazil has the most wonderful
diamond mines in the world. Away back in 1853
some prospectors were working in the mines of
Bogan when they found this marvelous diamond.
The rough stone weighed something like eighty
carats. It was cut into two diamonds by the
fortunate owner and when finished they proved to
be of an irreproachable purity, transparent and as
dazzling as the noonday sun.”
"I take it," I remarked, “ that they were a deli-
cate rose tint.”
“ Nothing of the kind,” interrupted Barnes.
“ They were a red-blooded red. That is what
makes them the rarest diamonds in the world.
There are many diamonds which get the rose tint
by refraction. There are several red stones that
come near being the real thing, but so far as I know,
these twin stones known originally as The Star
of the South are the only perfect red diamonds on
earth.”
“And they came over on the Dom Pedro?” I
asked, becoming interested.
“ Please don't interrupt,” exclaimed the old man


6 The Mystery of the Red Flame
testily. “As I was saying, they made two dia-
monds out of this precious stone. One was placed
in the National Museum in Rio Janeiro, where it
has excited the wonder of visitors for more than
half a century. The other passed from hand to
hand until it was finally sold to some wealthy col-
lector about three months ago. Now, according
to our confidential agent in Brazil, it has come over
on the Dom Pedro.”
“ The Dom Pedro docked yesterday," I said
eagerly.
" It did — there's no doubt about that," replied
the old man drily.
“And the diamond — did you find the dia-
mond?”
“We did not,” replied Barnes and the Collector
in chorus.
In spite of my anxiety and the importance of the
business I could scarcely keep from laughing aloud,
the two veterans of the service presented such a
lugubrious appearance.
“Might — might I inquire if particular precau-
tions were taken to locate this valuable stone ? "
“Particular precautions were taken," said the
Collector, “and without result. For details I refer
you to Hartley here."
Hartley, the Chief Inspector, a fine upstanding


The Star of the South
fellow, with clear, penetrating eyes, joined in the
conversation at this point.
“Never since I entered the service,” he began,
" have we given the passengers of any ship such a
thorough search as we did those of the Dom Pedro.
It was a busy day but in spite of that I put half of
my force on this one boat. The passenger list was
heavy, and to add to my perplexities the Spanish
Ambassador and the members of his staff were on
the Dom Pedro. We had special instructions from
Washington to show him every possible attention
and courtesy, and in order that nothing should go
wrong I gave His Excellency my personal atten-
tion. His trunks were separated from the general
cargo, and as soon as I had disposed of them I
turned my attention to the business of looking after
the Red Diamond.”
“And with no success," chimed in the Collector.
“With no success," admitted the Chief Inspec-
tor. “But I want to assure you that it was not
the fault of my men. We never went into such
minute details before. Every trunk and every bit
of baggage was examined in every possible man-
ner. We paid special attention to the usual tricks
of smugglers. We looked for false bottoms and
we turned the contents of trunks inside out. If
you had heard the protests and the profanity of the


8
The Mystery of the Red Flame
passengers you would not have considered it a per-
functory examination.”
“ Did you personally search any of the pas-
sengers ? ” asked Barnes.
“ Yes, but in a diplomatic and tactful manner.
We had a number of the men bumping carelessly
into the passengers in the expectation of feeling
anything that might seem bulky.”.
“ But would the Red Diamond be bulky?” I
ventured to inquire.
“ Yes, comparatively so," answered Barnes.
“ You know it was in a handsome gold setting, and
when you consider the unusual size of the stone you
will realize that it required something out of the
ordinary as a frame."
“Did you look into handbags and things of that
kind ? ” I asked.
“In every case. And after that we made a
minute search of all the cabins. We looked under
the cushions and we examined the bed clothing."
“ How about the crew ?”
“ They were compelled to undergo a most rigid
scrutiny. We ordered the steward to open his
store rooms and we inspected every bit of linen.
Finally we put the steerage passengers through the
third degree. I tell you, gentlemen,” he exclaimed,
raising his voice, “there never has been such a


The Star of the South
thorough search of a ship and its passengers since
this place was made a port.”
In the midst of the laugh that followed this decla-
ration the Collector said:
"I can testify to the truth of that statement for
ever since the arrival of the Dom Pedro I have been
receiving letters complaining of the harsh and il-
legal methods that were used toward the passengers.
Most of the writers complain that it was un-Amer-
ican and some of them have written to the Secretary
of the Treasury demanding my head on the ground
that I am unfit to administer the customs business.”
"I notice,” commented Barnes drily, “ that your
head is still safely fastened on your manly shoul-
ders.”
“Yes," admitted Fread bitterly, “but I'd be will-
ing to part with it, officially, if in return I could put
my hands on that devilish diamond. I hate to be
beaten, and I must confess that the fellow who is
running this smuggling syndicate is making a
laughing stock of the customs officials.”
Bromley Barnes moved about impatiently while
the Collector was thus freeing his mind.
“See here, Fread,” he said, “we've been all over
that ground. We're here for a definite purpose
and the sooner we get down to business the better
it will be for all concerned.”


10 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“ You can't get down to it any too soon for me,”
grumbled the Collector, and moving into a favor-
able light before the mirror he re-adjusted his
cravat to suit his fancy, all the while grumbling
over the unkind fate that had thrown so many un-
detected smugglers into his district.
“Hugh,” said Barnes, turning to me, “I under-
stand that you have some knowledge of diamonds
and gems.”
“Well," I replied, “I don't pretend to be an ex-
pert, but I've been making a study of the subject
for the last two years and I think I know something
about it.”
“Good!” he exclaimed, rubbing his hands to-
gether with a sort of joyous satisfaction. “I .
thought you were up on the business and I only
wanted to make sure of it."
“ Yes? ” I echoed wonderingly.
“It was the most important part of the plan,”
he continued, half to himself, “because if you
didn't really have this knowledge it might upset
everything."
" I'm afraid I don't understand.”
“ There isn't much to understand," said Barnes,
“except that I've discovered the man who is going
to recover the Red Diamond.”
My eyes opened with wonder. Even yet I did


The Star of the South
11
not realize what the veteran investigator was driv-
ing at. I spoke, innocently enough:
“Who is the man?"
He pointed a long, bony finger at me.
“You," he said, with his winsome smile. “You
are the man."


CHAPTER II
HEDGEWATER HOUSE
For some moments I sat there staring at Bromley
Barnes. His announcement had, in a way, made
me gasp for breath. I do not claim to be a modest
man. I think I appreciate myself at my true value,
but I had sense enough to realize that I lacked ex-
perience. To be sworn in as a Special Agent of
the Treasury at ten o'clock in the morning and to
be assigned to the most perplexing problem that
has vexed the Department in years, at noon, was
going it pretty strong. I ventured to express my-
self to that effect and then I remarked that even
if I were willing to undertake the case of the Red
Diamond I really would not know where to com-
mence. Barnes laughed:
“ You needn't trouble yourself about that part
of the business. I'll start you off right and I prom-
ise to be your guide, counselor, and friend at every
stage of the proceedings."
That altered the situation to my mind and made
me do some quick thinking. Here was a chance


Hedgewater House
13
to win reputation and probably promotion. Such
an opportunity might not come again in years.
" I'm disposed to accept the assignment,” I said
finally, in a condescending tone, “ if —".
“Disposed ?” grinned Barnes. “Why, man,
alive, you've already accepted it. I've accepted it
for you. You know in this branch of the service
we don't ask a man whether he'd like to do his work
or not. We tell him to go and do it. It's like the
Army and Navy in that regard. And the man that
stops a counterfeiting scheme or runs down a band
of smugglers is doing the work of a patriot just as
much as if he shouldered a musket or worked be-
hind the guns of a battleship.”
I do not know whether I blushed at this implied
rebuke or not. I know that I felt my cheeks get-
ting very warm.
“I hope," I began in a stammering way, “ that
- that you don't for a moment —”.
Bromley Barnes was on his feet in an instant and
was laying an affectionate hand on my shoulder.
“It's all right, Hugh,” he declared heartily.
“I've vouched for you and I know you'll do me
credit. I'm getting old and rusty and I expect my
mantle will fall on your broad shoulders one of
these days. In the meantime read that advertise-
ment."


14 The Mystery of the Red Flame
As he spoke, he thrust a copy of the Chronicle
in my hand. It had been folded so that the want
advertisement section appeared before my gaze.
Heavy pencil lines had been drawn about one part
which read:
WANTED - A young man of education with a
knowledge of gems and precious stones to assist the
writer in preparing a catalogue and description of
his collection. Apply at once. Basil Wharton,
Hedgewater Park.
“That's very interesting," I remarked, handing
the newspaper back to Barnes. “Now what about
it ? "
“Nothing much,” he smiled, “except that it is
just the sort of a job that would suit you."
“ You don't say,” I retorted, the desire to be
ironical getting the better of me.
"I do say — in fact you have already accepted
it."
"Indeed," I managed to gasp, “and when am I
to report for duty?”
“To-night!”
This time I was completely floored — metaphori-
cally speaking. While I was struggling to find
words to express my astonishment Collector Fread
mercifully came to my rescue.
“ Barnes is rather abrupt, Garland,” he said to


Hedgewater House
15
are
me, “and I think you are entitled to an explanation
In the first place, he needs you on this case because
you are new and unknown. All of his other men
have been spotted and the moment they appear the
rascals disappear. When we saw this advertise-
ment it made us almost shout with joy. It meant
an opportunity of placing you in a house where the
whereabouts of the Red Diamond were bound to
become known sooner or later. Colonel Wharton
is one of the greatest amateur collectors of gems in
this country and we have a notion that he will be
one of the first persons to whom the smugglers will
try to sell the stone —”.
"And so," interrupted Barnes, taking up the
thread of the narrative, “ we decided that you must
get this position at all hazards. Time was short
so we applied for it by telegraph — in your name.
The references we gave were formidable enough to
get you a seat on the bench of the Supreme Court
of the United States. They did better - to my
way of thinking — they got you the place with Col-
onel Wharton. The appointment came by tele-
graph and has just been sent here from your lodg-
ings. You are instructed to report for duty at the
earliest possible moment."
"I—I must say that you gentlemen have been
very enterprising in my behalf.”


16
The Mystery of the Red Flame
The Collector looked at me sharply and giving
his glasses an extra twirl remarked:
“Don't flatter yourself, young man. Any en-
terprise we may have shown has been in the inter-
est of the benevolent old gentleman who is popu-
larly known as your Uncle Samuel.”
Having delivered himself of this shot the Col-
lector rose from his chair, smoothed out the lines
in his frock coat and going over to the great mirror
on the side of the room looked at himself admir-
ingly.
“Now, Hugh,” said Barnes with the manner of
a judge on the bench,“ if you have anything to say
as to why sentence should not be pronounced this
is the time to speak or forever hold your peace.”
“I accept, of course," I hastened to say, “but
the thing is so cut and dried that there really does
not seem to be anything for me to do.”
“On the contrary," corrected the veteran, “there
is everything for you to do. We have simply ar-
ranged the preliminaries. We get you in the
house — you do the rest. If you are to succeed it
means courage, tact, and the highest order of in-
telligence.”
“Am I to understand that you suspect Colonel
Wharton?”
“On the contrary, we regard him as above sus-


Hedgewater House
picion. His standing in the community is so high
that it may be said to place him above reproach.
But he is human and he is a collector."
“You mean by that," I began, “ that --"
“I mean by that," interrupted Barnes, “that
your real collector is not morally responsible for
the things he may do in acquiring his collection.
Did you ever see a miser gloating over his gold?
ever notice how lovingly he handles each separate
bit of coin ? "
“Never,” I confessed, “except by hearsay. I've
read of such things in novels and seen them in
plays, but for all I know a real living miser does
not exist."
"Well, you know what I mean,” said Barnes
sharply, “and it will give you an idea of the things
that might be done by an enthusiastic collector.
Now, I don't for a moment intend to reflect upon
the integrity of Colonel Wharton, who is one of
our most distinguished citizens and a descendant
of a Colonial family, but if it was necessary for him
to shut his eyes in order to add to his collection,
why, I'm afraid he'd shut his eyes.”
“But the idea of going there disguised. I-"
“You won't be disguised,” grinned Barnes; “ we
don't wear false whiskers in this branch of the
Government service. You'll go there in your own


18 The Mystery of the Red Flame
name. In fact, you've been engaged in that
name.”
“Won't that be a little risky?” I asked.
“Not in the least," was the uncomplimentary re-
ply. “You're not well known, and in any event
you'll not be suspected of being connected with the
Government service. Your year in the Apprais-
er's Department has all been on the inside and
while you have become fairly familiar with gems
and their history the public has not become familiar
with you.”
“ That's true," I admitted, “and I guess I can
shake off the feeling that I'm creeping into the
man's house under cover.”
Collector Fread, who was standing in front of
his desk at this moment, brought his fist down with
a bang that shook the ink bottles.
“That's sentimental nonsense," he thundered.
“If Colonel Wharton is an honest man — and I
believe he is — you can't possibly do him any harm.
If he isn't, then he deserves all he gets. That's as
plain as the nose on your face, young man, and no-
body could mistake that.”
. This reference to my Napoleonic nostrils evoked
a general laugh and ended the conference. The
little group separated and Barnes left with me to
give me my final instructions. I had some work


Hedgewater House
19
that had to be finished that afternoon and what with
packing and settling my affairs in anticipation of a
prolonged absence, it was late in the evening when
I was ready to start. I would have postponed the
going until the following morning but Barnes would
not hear of it.
“Delays are dangerous, young man, and the
sooner you get down to business the better it will
be for the Government. Besides," he added, “I
expect to have your first report within the next
forty-eight hours.”
So I sent a telegram that I was on my way and
boarded the ten o'clock accommodation for Hedge-
water. The station was deserted when I reached
there and I was the only one that alighted from
the train. Hedgewater House was about a mile
away in the direction of the river, and as there was
no conveyance in sight I took a firm grip on my
suitcase and started down the road. The station
agent told me that if I went straight ahead it would
bring me to the main entrance of the estate. It
was a long walk and a dreary one and the dispo-
sition of the moon to retire behind a bank of dark
clouds at frequent intervals made the journey a
dangerous one as well.
I felt momentarily as if I might step into some
bottomless pit, and when that feeling was not giv-


20 The Mystery of the Red Flame
ing me a creepy sensation in the spine I was won-
dering if the shadows behind the trees along the
roadside were really trees or highwaymen laying
in wait to assault me. However, the longest as
well as the saddest journeys have their end and
presently I came in sight of the house that was to
be my home for some days.
The gates were open and at the end of a long
vista I could see a lamp in front of the doorway.
The house itself loomed up gray and menacing in
the gloom. The slanting roof and the bay win-
dows on the side gave one the impression of
specters in the night. All around the estate was a
great hedge, higher than a man's head, and con-
cealing the dwelling from the roadside and the
view of too inquisitive neighbors.
I do not know what came over me as I made my
way up the path leading to the front door. I am
no coward, but the feeling that I experienced was
a feeling akin to fear. It was a sense of some
impending misfortune. The dim light was in front
of me by this time, but even that failed to relieve
the heaviness of heart that had gripped me so
unexpectedly and so unreasonably. Possibly the
strain and excitement of the day had unnerved me.
I resolutely shook off the feeling and seizing the
old-fashioned brass knocker on the big white door


Hedgewater House
21
tapped it smartly two or three times. The noise,
curiously enough, startled me. Why, I cannot say.
But the echoes of the sounds came back with
amazing accuracy. I heard the shuffling of foot-
steps in the interior of the house and these footfalls
on the bare floors of the stairways did not help
to restore my tranquillity or peace of mind.
Just as the door was about to open I happened to
glance down the path whence I had just walked and
something that flashed past the range of my vision
caused me to start as if I had been struck in the
face. It was a man, and from the light of the
moon, which had just emerged from behind one
of the everlasting clouds, I could see that he was
dressed in a gray suit. His movements were not
reassuring. He acted like a man whose motives
are, at least, dubious. My impulse was to run
down the path after him, but at that instant the
door was thrown open and a flood of light illumi-
nated the old-fashioned porch. A colored servant
stood before me.
“My name is Garland," I began, “and —”.
He bowed low, like a genuine Southern darky.
“ Yessir,” he murmured, “ I'll look after the gem-
man. Colonel Wharton am slightly indisposed,
sir, and will see you in the morning, sir."
I smiled.


22 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“What am I to do?”
By way of answer he took my suitcase and
marching ahead, exclaimed:
“ Follow me, sir!”.
I followed him up a broad stairway until we
reached an equally broad hallway on the second
landing. At the rear end of this was a large room
into which I was ceremoniously ushered. It was
all that could be desired, and evidently great pains
had been taken to provide for my comfort. After
the colored servitor left me I lost no time in pre-
paring for bed. When the light was turned off I
walked aimlessly toward the window. It appeared
to be on the side of the house and it gave me a
view equally of the river in the rear and the road-
way in the front.
Just at that moment the figure of the man in the
gray suit flashed past the entrance to Hedgewater
House.
What did I do about it?
Not a thing. I slipped under the covers and
went sound asleep.


CHAPTER III
DORA WHARTON
I was awakened by the sun streaming into the
windows of my room at Hedgewater House, and,
without waiting for the extra twenty winks to
which we are all entitled, I jumped out of bed and
dressed.
The outlook from my window commanded a
splendid view of the Harmony River. The day
was clear, cool and crisp and the sun shining upon
the smooth waters of the noble stream caused it to
sparkle with a diamond-like effect. There was a
bend in the river at this point and the suggestion of
a cove just above Hedgewater reminded me of what
I had read of the glories of the Bay of Naples.
The view about the house was equally grateful
to the eye. Seen from this height, and bathed in
the light of the morning sun, Hedgewater House
seemed to lose much of the somberness that had
oppressed me on my arrival the night before. The
high hedge about the estate formed a natural green
wall that gave it a privacy without the coldness that
23


24 The Mystery of the Red Flame
goes with a stone wall. The grounds were at-
tractively laid out in walks and drives, with here
and there a picturesque flower garden and every-
where green, velvety lawns. Near the water's edge
was a little summer house, with latticed sides and
a red roof that contrasted pleasantly with the green
grass and the blue water.
I felt satisfied that, externally, at least, I was
going to enjoy my stay at Hedgewater House.
But with this feeling there came the conscious-
ness of my purpose in this house. I was coming
there under false pretenses with the intention of
spying upon its occupants. That thought gave me
an uneasy feeling. Almost in the same instant I
excused myself with the remembrance that I was
there in the line of duty. And I recalled the words
of Bromley Barnes when he said that the man who
served his country in its secret service was just as
much of a patriot as if he were a soldier or a sailor
defending its flag and its honor.
After dressing I went down the broad hallways
and out into the garden. I had been told to make
myself at home and I proceeded to do so. It was
a perfect day and the promise given of the estate
from my window was more than fulfilled in my
walk about the grounds. Presently I caught a
glimpse of a white skirt in the distance. Evi-


Dora Wharton
25
dently I was not the only one who had risen early
to get the benefit of the morning air. Although a
stranger I was obeying the injunction to make my-
self “at home.” It seemed rather informal and
unusual, but I continued to stroll about in the ex-
pectation of meeting some one to whom I could
make my identity known. At that moment I
caught another glimpse of the white skirt and the
next instant I beheld a girl cutting flowers from a
bush and arranging them in a bouquet. She was
young and attractive. That much was evident,
even from a distance. .
Presently, at a sharp turn in the path, I came face
to face with the girl. She was evidently about
twenty-two or three and full of life and vivacity.
She was slender and there was a natural grace and
quickness in her movements. But it was her face
that attracted my attention, a face framed in a pro-
fusion of glossy black hair. Her forehead was
broad and white and smooth and heightened the in-
tellectual look which won the instant respect of the
observer. But any possible fear that she might be
a blue stocking was dispelled by the quizzical good-
natured, inquiring black eyes and the smiling lips.
Such was Dora Wharton as she appeared to me
before I knew her name and before I became ac-
quainted with the qualities of her heart and mind


26 The Mystery of the Red Flame
which — for me - set her apart from the members
of her sex.
The moment she saw me her face brightened and
she came forward with outstretched hand. There
was a child-like frankness and eagerness about her
that irresistibly attracted me at the start and I felt
a sense of pleasure at her approach.
"If I am not mistaken,” she said smilingly, “ this
is Mr. Hugh Garland.”
“You are not mistaken," I replied quietly, match-
ing her smile.
“I see that I must present myself,” she con-
tinued, with that engaging frankness. “I am Miss
Dora Wharton.”
" It is a pleasure to meet you,” I responded, in-
wardly berating myself at my inability to think of
any more appropriate response.
During this interchange of civilities she had
busied herself in arranging the flowers she held in
her hand. Some of the stems showed a propensity
to waywardness and she knitted her brows as she
forced them into place.
“I don't know what you must think of us, Mr.
Garland,” she said presently, “but by a chain of
circumstances over which we had no control there
was no one to meet you on your arrival at Hedge-
water House last night.”


Dora Wharton
27
“ The lateness of the hour," I murmured. “The
fault was all my own.”
“You are kind to look at it in that way," she
smiled. “My uncle expected you, but he was in-
disposed last night and was forced to retire early.”
“You know of my arrangement with him?” I
ventured.
“Oh, yes, and I'm sure it is going to be a great
comfort to him. You know Uncle is getting along
in years now and his health has not been robust.
His heart is wrapped in his collection and it will
set him at ease to know that he has an efficient
assistant who will undertake the task of getting it
in shape.”
We had been walking along a flower-bordered
path as she talked and she paused for a moment to
glance at an exquisite wrist watch.
“We do not breakfast for half an hour yet,”
she remarked. “ Perhaps you would like to view
the grounds in the meantime? That is, if you are
willing to accept me as a guide.”
There was no coquetry in her voice or manner,
and there was a natural dignity about her that
precluded the notion of answering her with any
banal flattery. So I simply replied, honestly
enough, that it would please me immensely to do as
she suggested


28 The Mystery of the Red Flame
Many years have passed since that first walk
through the grounds of Hedgewater House, and I
have had as full a life as the average young Ameri-
can, but the memory of the incident remains as
clear in my mind as though it had occurred but
yesterday.
That half hour passed with amazing swiftness,
and just before it came to an end we sat in the
summer-house overlooking the river whose rippling
waters sparkled in a way that inadequately reflected
the cheerfulness of my heart. As she sat there
with the morning sunshine on her face I had an
opportunity of studying the girl to more advan-
tage. She was not beautiful, in the ordinary sense
of that word. Indeed, her features were irregular
and her nose was not large enough to suit the ex-
actions of an artist. But her bright eyes, with their
quizzical, questioning expression, and her smiling
lips, brightened her face amazingly and made her
the most attractive girl I had ever met. It was
with genuine regret that I heard her say:
“It's time we were in the breakfast-room. Aunt
Sarah must be there by now and she can't bear the
thought of having to wait for her morning meal.”
We had risen and started in the direction of the
house. She noted the look of inquiry in my eyes.
“ Aunt Sarah — Mrs. Crilly — is mother and


Dora Wharton
29
everything else in the world to me. I'm sure you
will like her.”
“ Your recommendation is sufficient,” I said with
my first attempt at gallantry.
“I'm afraid you shall have to take your first
meal in Hedgewater House with only two unin-
teresting women for company. Uncle will not be
down until later. We have two house guests at
present, Monsieur Jules Jacquette, who, like Uncle,
is an enthusiast upon gems, and Mr. Victor Jayne, a
steamship acquaintance, who came over with us on
our return from our last trip abroad. Both have
arranged to breakfast with Uncle in order to dis-
cuss some prosy business matter. But I am anxious
to have you meet both of them later. Monsieur
Jacquette is especially interesting. He has trav-
eled everywhere, met everybody, and has a won-
derful fund of knowledge.”
“That sounds formidable — you almost frighten
me, Miss Wharton.”
“There is no occasion for fear,” she laughed.
"Monsieur Jacquette is really a very amiable per-
son."
We had reached the breakfast-room- a bright
attractive room, overlooking the most inviting por-
tion of the garden. At the same moment a little
old lady entered from another doorway. Under


30
The Mystery of the Red Flame
any circumstances she would have elicited a second
look from me, but in that Colonial framework she
was positively picturesque. She must have been
quite old, but there was a freshness about her face
and a light in her shrewd, kindly eyes that sug-
gested the fountain of eternal youth. She wore a
steel-colored dress, with rare lace collar which was
kept in place by a large, old-fashioned brooch. Her
snow-white hair was parted in the middle, and, al-
together, her appearance was one of effective sim-
plicity. She came directly to the young girl and
kissed her affectionately.
“Good morning, my dear,” she said in a low,
sweet voice.
“ Auntie," announced the girl, glancing in my
direction, “this is Mr. Hugh Garland, who has
come to help Uncle with his dreadful antiques.”
She looked me straight in the eye and putting out
her hand gripped mine with a vigor and certainty
which betokened vitality and sincerity.
“I'm glad to meet you, young man," was her
greeting, “and if you succeed in relieving Colonel
Wharton of his anxiety over his treasures you will
place us all under a great obligation."
In spite of the strangeness of the situation my
appetite was unimpaired and I did full justice to a
breakfast that was appetizing in the fullest sense


Dora Wharton
31
of that much abused word. A neatly-dressed maid
served the meal. Mrs. Crilly took a motherly in-
terest in this girl, named Amy Smith, and in a mo-
ment of confidence informed me that Amy was sav-
ing her money in the expectation of being married
in a short time.
The conversation at table was of a general char-
acter. But, assuredly, I had no cause to complain.
The white-haired old lady and the black-haired
young woman made the time pass very agreeably
for me and that, too, without any evidence of effort
upon their part. As I glanced from one to the
other I could not escape the feeling that they were
mutually indispensable. I felt sure that Dora
Wharton would be just such a person as Aunt Sarah
when she became old and I was equally confident
that Aunt Sarah must have been like Dora when
she was a young girl.
After breakfast we stepped out on the broad
porch that surrounded the house and as we did so
I saw a tall, elderly man approaching. I guessed
rightly that it was Colonel Wharton. He was thin
and slightly stoop-shouldered and had the ab-
stracted air of a man who does much thinking.
He greeted me quietly and kindly, and after apolo-
gizing for his non-appearance the night before sug-
gested that we go over to his “museum,” as he


32 The Mystery of the Red Flame
called it, where he would explain the nature of the
work that was expected of me.
We started off together, after an adieu to the
ladies. Dora and her aunt walked down the path-
way in the direction of the summer-house. The
Colonel talked to me as we walked but I must con-
fess that my thoughts were on his niece rather than
upon his curiosities, of which he talked enthusi-
astically.
Instinctively I paused and glanced at the retreat-
ing figure of Dora Wharton. The gracefulness of
her figure, in the distance, reminded me of the
charm of her face and manner. The mere fact of
leaving her presence left me with a sense of loss.
I tried to think of other things, of my prospective
employment, of my reason for being in this house.
It all came back to the one thing.
Try to disguise it as I would, I could not shut
my mind to the truth — I was already in love with
Dora Wharton.


CHAPTER IV
I MEET JULES JACQUETTE
THE building into which I was led by Colonel
Wharton was in reality a small addition to Hedge-
water House. It was reached by a covered path-
way from the main dwelling and I noticed that the
Colonel unlocked it before entering and that he
turned the key on it after we left the place.
“This is not open to the public,” he said, with an
explanatory smile, “and I don't relish the idea of
visitors wandering about at will — not even the
members of my own household.”
It was understood, of course, that I should do
most of my work in the private museum, but aside
from myself I soon discovered that no one was
permitted to visit the place without the consent of
Colonel Wharton, and then in his company. It
may be wondered how it was that I, a comparative
stranger, should be admitted into the holy of holies
from which even relatives of the owner were so
scrupulously excluded. But that is explained by
the mention of Bromley Barnes. The veteran in-
33


34
The Mystery of the Red Flame
vestigator was the most thorough person I ever met
in my life. There was not a detail of my business
at Hedgewater House that he had not foreseen and
provided for. Among other things I discovered
that I had been “bonded ” with a well-known cor-
poration, by the terms of which Colonel Wharton
was fully protected in his property and possessions
so far as I was concerned.
The museum was a one-story building with a
dome so arranged that there was an abundance of
light and ventilation. It had been built for the
purpose for which it was used, and the arrange-
ments, so far as I could see, were admirable. It
did not take me long to discover that Colonel
Wharton's collection was neither so large nor so
varied as I had expected. In fact it consisted of
three small collections. The first was of coins, the
second books and the third gems. But what these
collections lacked in quantity they more than made
up in quality. All of the articles were actual rari-
ties. Most of the coins, books and gems were so
rare that it would have been very difficult to du-
plicate them.
Colonel Wharton was an intelligent enthusiast
and he discoursed interestingly upon his hobby.
He saw that he had gained my attention and that
fact brought the light to his eyes and the flush of


I Meet Jules Jacquette
35
eagerness to his cheeks. The antiques were in
fairly good condition but I could see that it would
mean weeks of unremitting labor to properly ar-
range and classify them. It was understood that
I was to begin my work on the following day. It
would take me twenty-four hours, the Colonel said,
to “get my bearings.”
I had always taken an enthusiastic interest in
the science of numismatics, and Colonel Wharton's
collection of coins claimed my instant attention.
It did not take me long to recognize the value of
these coins. He had among other things the earli-
est known coins which were issued by the Greeks
in the seventh century before the Christian era.
After that came fine specimens of Roman money
and so on down through ancient, mediæval and
modern times. There was one section consisting
entirely of Oriental coins and this contained bits of
silver and gold from ancient Persia, Arabia, modern
Persia, India, China and coins of the Far East.
Colonel Wharton talked of these in a vein of
fascinating interest. He explained to me, what I
already knew, that a study of these coins would
give a history of the world, at least for the periods
for which they stood. The inscriptions on the
coins were studies in geography, politics and re-
ligion. In most cases these bits of metal bore the


36
The Mystery of the Red Flame
busts or effigies of the reigning sovereigns and they
indicated whether it was a republic or a monarchy
and the method of worship. In some cases they
even went further because there were special issues
of medals to commemorate the defeat or the suc-
cess of the armies of the country for which they
stood.
I was able to give only a cursory examination of
this wonderful collection, and then I glanced over
the rare books, which consisted mainly of first edi-
tions in various countries and at different periods.
That I would get much joy out of these books went
without saying. Finally, I made a hasty survey of
the section devoted to precious gems. This was
the smallest of all, although it is quite safe to say
that it was the most valuable. Nearly all of the
stones were antiques — which is to say that they
were set in frames of very ancient manufacture.
It was quite evident that in this collection the
Colonel had not gone after gems for their value in
money. He wanted them for their rarity alone.
He had pearls, sapphires, rubies and a brilliant
topaz.
It was while we were going through this collec-
tion that there came a sharp rapping at the door
of the museum. Colonel Wharton frowned impa-
tiently. He disliked to be interrupted — especially


I Meet Jules Jacquette 87
was
when he was among his beloved curiosities.
Nevertheless he went to the door and opened it.
Incidentally I heard a voice, positive, insistent and
all-pervading, making voluminous and abject apolo-
gies for having disturbed the good Colonel while he
was amusing himself with his precious possessions.
The Colonel seemed to recover his good temper
quickly, for he ushered the caller into the room,
and the next moment I heard him saying:
“Mr. Garland, I want you to meet Monsieur
Jacquette. He has much in common with us in
our love of the rare and the beautiful.”
I glanced at the man who stood bowing before
me with the ceremonious mien of a Field Marshal
and the agility of a dancing master. His presence
seemed to fill the room. That is the only way in
which I can express my sense of the magnetism of
the man. He had taken my hand and, I feared,
was going to kiss it. But he paused before reach-
ing that point and said:
" It is indeed a high honor to become acquainted
with Monsieur Garland.”
Why it should have been such a distinction was
more than I could understand, and I ascribed this
extravagance of language to the Southern origin
of M. Jacquette. Evidently, to him, it was noth-
ing more than a polite form of address. He turned
II


38 The Mystery of the Red Flame
to speak to Colonel Wharton and that gave me an
opportunity of studying the man.
He was of medium size and stockily built. A
big head rested on a thick neck. His legs were
short and this gave his body the impression of be-
ing out of proportion to the size of the man. His
partly silvered hair was closely cropped, giving him
a pugnacious appearance. He wore a mustache
and an imperial and he looked at you out of a pair
of compelling gray eyes. He talked English per-
fectly. Indeed, his conversation was easy and flu-
ent and he accompanied it with nervous gesticula-
tions. There was something characteristic of the .
man in his hands. They were large hands, they
were eager hands, they were greedy hands. As I
watched the pantomime, as he moved over to the
far corner of the room and talked to Colonel
Wharton in a subdued voice, I felt just the slightest
bit of distrust for Monsieur Jules Jacquette. It
was a perfectly unreasonable feeling; I had no
basis on which to found it except the sudden dis-
like I had taken to his hands. I felt that they
were the sort of hands that would not stop at
anything to accomplish the purposes of their
owner.
I was aroused from my meditations by the two
men coming in my direction. Colonel Wharton


I Meet Jules Jacquette 41
If M. Jacquette noticed this he gave no sign of
it in his talk or manner. He kept talking con-
stantly, not giving either of us a chance to get in a
word edgewişe. At one break in his flow of good
English the Colonel happened to address him as
Monsieur. He took it up at once.
“Ah! Colonel Wharton, is it any wonder that
our estimable young friend here asks me if I come
from La Belle France. You call me Monsieur and
at once he conjures up visions of the most beautiful
city in the world. That one word transports him
on the wings of fancy to Paris. He sees the
Champs Elysées and gazing down its broad expanse
beholds the Arch de Triomph. He sees the Made-
leine, the Place Vendôme, the Porte Saint-Denis,
Notre Dame, the Panthéon, the tomb of Napoleon
and the Eiffel Tower. Is it not so, my young
friend ? ”
" It is so," I confessed," and all of these things
are the more vivid to me because I have never seen
them." '
" Ah, that is of no consequence," he said with
his magnificent manner. “You have the imagina-
tion, and the young man who has the imagination
possesses the world.”
“ Thank you, Monsieur,” I said, smiling and bow-
ing, and laying stress on the last word.


42
The Mystery of the Red Flame
“I thank you, sir," he retorted, bowing until his
sweeping hands almost touched the floor. “I
thank you, and I place my hand on my heart as I
do so. It is but your natural courtesy that makes
you and Colonel Wharton speak thus. Both of you
are overkind in calling me Monsieur when I am but
entitled to the appellation of Senor. Am I right,
sir, when I use the word appellation? You know
that I am not yet familiar with all the uses of your
noble language.”
I laughed in spite of my desire not to like M.
Jacquette.
“ You are right as right can be, Monsieur. And
let me make a confession to you. It is that I would
be a proud and happy man if I could speak the Eng-
lish language as correctly and as fluently as you
speak it."
I was totally unprepared for the violent demon-
stration which followed this little speech. Jules
Jacquette embraced me with his two masterful
arms. After that he persisted in taking both of
my hands in his and wringing them with an ardor
that made me wince.
“Ah, you young American,” he cried, “ you put
me at such a terrible disadvantage. I cannot ex-
press the gratitude of my heart for the most mag-
nificent compliment you have paid me. You see I


I Meet Jules Jacquette 43
am helpless; I am dumb in the presence of your
kind words."
A smile played about the mournful countenance
of Colonel Wharton.
“ It seems to me, M. Jacquette, that you have
been entirely equal to the occasion."
The stocky one shrugged his shoulders and threw
out his hands, palms upward, with a gesture which
said that Colonel Wharton having spoken, there
was no more for Jules Jacquette to say.
In spite of these little by-plays it was still evi-
dent that the Colonel was anxious to have the
Brazilian leave the building. More than that, he
seemed fearful that the man might say too much in
my presence.
“Come over to the library," he said, to him,
“and we will enjoy a cigar together.”
M. Jacquette raised his two hands in protest.
“ To your library and your company — yes. To
smoke your cigar — no. But if you will permit, I
will roll a cigarette and inhale its fragrance."
"As you please," said the master of Hedgewater
House with a weariness he could not entirely con-
ceal.
The two men started off together and as they
reached the door the Colonel paused for a moment
to speak to me.


44 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“Garland, if you don't mind, you might stay
here for awhile and become familiar with the ar-
rangement of these things. I'll join you before
luncheon.”
“Very well,” I replied.
They passed down the covered passageway and
it seemed to me that the stoop in the soldierly
figure of Colonel Wharton was a little more pro-
nounced. Jules Jacquette, on the other hand,
skipped along with a lightness of step and an ex-
uberance of manner that furnished a striking con-
trast to his companion. As they reached the far
end of the walk Jacquette paused, and, looking back
at me, waved his hand gayly.
"By-by, my young friend, but we shall meet
again. And maybe that time I can think of some
fitting rejoinder to the magnificent compliment
which you have paid to poor me."
I closed the door and turned to my preliminary
work with something like a sigh. There was noth-
ing out of the way in anything I had seen or heard
and yet somehow I could not rid myself of the
feeling that Colonel Wharton was in trouble and
that the masterful Jacquette was the cause of that
trouble. What could it be? The Colonel was
wealthy, comfortable and beyond the reach of or-
dinary woes. His health was uncertain, but that


I Meet Jules Jacquette
45
was to be expected in a man who had reached his
years. I tried to forget this and to turn my atten-
tion to the wonderful things in the unusual collec-
tions. But I was only partially successful.
Why?
It did not take long to answer that question.
Dora Wharton was the cause of my distraction.
Dora Wharton was the cause of the interest and
sympathy which I felt in the affairs of her uncle.
Her face came constantly between me and my
work. I opened the pages of one of the rare first
editions printed in the quaint type of the long ago.
It was not illustrated but from between the words
rose the face of Dora Wharton. The quizzical
eyes and the smiling lips were just as distinct as if
she were there in the flesh. I closed the book
sharply. I felt, with a sense of self-reproach, that
I was badly smitten. But in a little while I became
engrossed in my work and forgot everything except
the fascinating objects that lay before me.' I
turned from the books to the coins and finally to
the gems. I do not know how long I worked
there, but I was finally roused by the voice of
Colonel Wharton exclaiming:
“Come on, young man; don't you think it's
time you had some nourishment?”
I glanced at my watch. It was long past one


46 The Mystery of the Red Flame
o'clock. The curiosities of the collection fascinated
me and made me oblivious of the passage of time.
It was not hard now to understand how a man like
Colonel Wharton, advanced in years, and made
solitary by the loss of friends and relatives, should
become obsessed with this pursuit for the rare, and
the sometimes unobtainable. I called out that I
would be with him in a minute, and in that time I
made a final rapid survey of the gems. After that
I joined him at the door.
“ Colonel,” I said, with some anxiety,“ are all of
your gems in that room? ”
“All that I actually own," he replied, with the
emphasis on the last two words.
But at the time I overlooked the tone of his voice
in the satisfaction I felt in his reply.
The Red Diamond was not in the collection of
gems in the museum.
That fact gave me indescribable pleasure because
I had been hoping from the time I first met Dora
Wharton that I would not find it in her uncle's
possession.


CHAPTER V
THE MAN BEHIND THE HEDGE
We all met for the first time at luncheon. It
was then that I had my first glimpse of Victor
Jayne. He was thin and languid, with long hair
and a stringy mustache and a disposition to be very
careful about his dress. Colonel Wharton sat at
the head of the table and in the capacity of host
endeavored to keep the conversational ball rolling.
He succeeded, measurably, and in this he was ably
seconded by Jules Jacquette. The latter's vivacity
was amazing. He talked almost constantly - and
I must admit that he talked well.
But it was not in the conversation alone that he
excelled. There was something about his person-
ality which made it inevitable that he should take
and hold the center of the stage. He was persua-
sive, he was compelling, and he was masterful.,
The moment he spoke the others listened. They
may or they may not have been interested in his
conversation, but they paid him the tribute of per-
fect silence. Victor Jayne had little to say and


48 The Mystery of the Red Flame
that little he addressed to Dora Wharton. Indeed,
his eyes were upon her during the greater part of
the meal. How do I know ? Because my eyes,
also, were upon her.
The fact that I was able to see and talk to Dora
Wharton kept the fires of my affection at the burn-
ing point. It is all very poetic to say that absence
makes the heart grow fonder, but it is not to be
compared with constant intercourse with one for
whom you have a positive and unmistakable love.
And I had a positive and unmistakable love for
Dora. Any doubt on that point was removed by
the spasm of pain which I felt when I detected
Jayne smiling at Dora, and smiling, too, in a fa-
miliar and confidential manner.
I was not only in love, but I was jealous in the
bargain.
It relieved me when the meal was over. The
sight of those two glancing at each other in that
provoking style and indulging in sweet nothings
was too much. It never occurred to me at the
time that such a thought on my part was an im-
pertinence. Dora had talked to me kindly; she
had treated me considerately, but she had not given
any sign which would justify me in thinking that
she cared for me in the remotest degree. Clearly
I was unreasonable, but that, after all, was only


The Man Behind the Hedge 49
another proof that I was really and truly in love.
For love — human love — as all lovers can testify,
is the most unreasonable thing on earth.
As we left the dining-room it was my blissful
pleasure to have a few minutes alone with Dora.
She asked me what I thought of the collection,
whether I was likely to be pleased with the work
and other queries along the same line. I was
pleased at this evident interest in my work; I was
flattered at the attention to my humble self. But
later Victor Jayne came along and on some pretext
or other managed to take her off to another part
of the garden. Before I had an opportunity of
mentally berating him for his impudence, I was
joined by dear Mrs. Crilly and in a few minutes
we were seated together in a rustic arbor discussing
Hedgewater Park and its inmates.
“So you think you will be pleased with your
employment, do you? ” asked the old lady.
“ Pleased would be putting it mildly, Mrs.
Crilly," I answered. “I am positively enthusiastic
about it, and my surroundings, and the people with
whom I come in contact only add to the enjoy-
ment."
She shook her head and a shrewd smile came
over that young-old face.
“Your enthusiasm is the enthusiasm of youth.


50
The Mystery of the Red Flame
Every turn in the road brings you something new.
A smile, a handkerchief, a rose, all may mean the
beginning of an adventure to youth. But to old
age it is different. We become liberal, broad-
minded and philosophical. All of these traits are
admirable in themselves, but they are not the things
that make the world go round. They are the vir-
tues of old age, the old age which gradually brings
detachment from the things of this life. You
know,” she added, with a rare smile, " at three score
years and ten the world grows lonely. The friends
of our youth have died or departed and we no
longer have the desire or the enthusiasm to make
new ones. It is night; the fires of our earthly life
are banked, and we are but waiting for the morn-
ing, the morning of the day which knows no end-
ing."
Suddenly she broke off with a smile.
“Am I preaching — well, that's one of the re-
sults of advancing years. But I'll promise not to
do it again. I'll try to talk of the things which
interest you.”
I smiled in turn and said:
“I envy Colonel Wharton his marvelous collec-
tion."
She shook her head at that.
“I don't.”


The Man Behind the Hedge
51
“Surely," I protested, “ you can't mean that.”
“I mean every word of it,” she continued, with
unexpected bitterness. “ Colonel Wharton is one
of the finest men that ever lived. There never was
a more loving brother, but I have a haunting fear
that this miserable collection may have the effect of
undermining his character."
I was puzzled and must have looked it.
“Don't smile at me," the old lady said, “because
what I say may sound fantastic and unreal, but I
think it is a misfortune to become so passionately
attached to inanimate things."
“I'm not smiling," I protested, “but I'm afraid
I can't see the point you're trying to make.”
She sighed.
“I don't want to be put in the position of finding
fault with my brother, but you're like one of the
family now, and I can't tell you how much it wor-
ries me when I see his intense enthusiasm over his
gems."
I tried to laugh lightly, but she disregarded this
and continued :
“You have not seen him as I have seen him when
he has coveted some rare thing. The desire for
possession has been terrifying. When such a fit
is on him he would spend the last cent he had to
get what he wanted, and if that were not enough


52 The Mystery of the Red Flame
he would beg, borrow or steal to make up the dif-
ference. You have probably heard of a youth with
such a yearning for knowledge that he would go
without his dinner in order to get a needed book.
Well, Colonel Wharton's case is somewhat similar
to that except that the motive is not so high or lofty.
With him it is the desire for possession. I have
seen this lust for ancient coins and books and gems
in his eyes and it has terrified me. I dread to think
of what might happen if there should come a
time when he coveted something just out of his
reach.”
For the first time I began to appreciate the point
of view of this wise old woman. Her words took
on a new and more significant meaning. It seemed
to me that I had heard them before. Suddenly it
came to me that I had. Both Bromley Barnes and
Collector Fread had spoken to me of this mania
for gems on the part of some people. It was an
obsession, and an obsession is not easily shaken off.
I looked at Mrs. Crilly for some moments in si-
lence and then I said gently:
"Have you ever spoken to Colonel Wharton of
your fears in this matter?”
She smiled - a mournful smile.
“Yes, frequently, but without the slightest ef-
fect. Did you ever try to make a dipsomaniac


The Man Behind the Hedge 58
understand the evils of drink? Did you ever
preach of the virtue of industry to an indolent man?
Did you ever counsel patience to an angry man?
Well, the result is about the same in each case.
e
" Still,” I suggested, “Colonel Wharton is a
high-minded gentleman.”
“Of course he is,” she replied warmly, “and in
my heart of hearts I feel sure that he may be de-
pended upon to do the right thing. But the men-
tion of those dreadful curiosities always sends me
off on a tangent — my fears get the better of my
judgment. I suppose it's just a case of a woman's
nerves. But now that I've relieved my mind to a
sympathetic listener I feel better already. Please
do not take my talk too seriously. Forget that
I've said anything on the subject.”
And with that she was on her feet with the grace
and the agility of a miss of sixteen. Her talk was
bright and cheerful now, but in spite of that I could
not help a slight feeling of depression over what
she had said.
For the second time that day I thanked my lucky
stars I had not found the Red Diamond in Colonel
Wharton's collection.
As I parted with Mrs. Crilly and went to the
museum, I noticed that Colonel Wharton had gone


54 The Mystery of the Red Flame
in ahead of me. He was using the telephone as I
reached the door and from a few words which I
unwittingly overheard I knew that he was talking
to his bankers at Phillipsburg.
“You should be able to realize on the bonds at
once," he was saying impatiently.
I gently closed the door and left the building
because I had no desire to overhear what was ob-
viously a confidential conversation. I took a turn
or two about the garden in order to give the Colonel
time to finish his talk. Happening to glance in the
direction of the entrance to the house I noticed a
man in a gray süit lurking in the shadow of the
tall hedge. What could be the meaning of his
continued presence about the house? What did he
want, anyhow? I felt satisfied that it was the
same man I had seen on the night of my arrival.
I had intended speaking of the incident to Colonel
Wharton, but had refrained because it might seem
too trivial. Quite possibly it was some one who
belonged in the neighborhood. Maybe it was some
one employed on the estate. This sight of the man
lurking about the hedge stirred me greatly. My
impulse was to give the alarm and have him ar-
rested. But the feeling of caution which had pre-
vented me from speaking to the Colonel earlier in
the day halted me again. I did not wish to be


The Man Behind the Hedge 55
placed in the position of giving a false alarm. I
did not wish to make myself appear ridiculous.
Nevertheless I felt that something should be
done, so I determined to investigate on my own
account. I started in the direction of the spot
where I had seen the man. A pair of keen eyes
were looking at me from over the top of the hedge.
I ran for that spot. At the same instant the eyes
suddenly disappeared and when I reached there a
little later no one was in sight. I made a thorough
search of the roadside — and found no one. Much
chagrined I walked slowly back to the museum.
On the way I passed Victor Jayne arm-in-arm with
Dora Wharton. It caused my pulse to beat faster
and gave me an acute pain in the region of the
heart. He nodded carelessly and she gave me a
gracious smile as they proceeded on their way. I
felt miserable and knew that I was in for a most
unhappy afternoon.
At the door of the museum I met Aunt Sarah.
She looked placid enough now, as if she had for-
gotten all about her conversation earlier in the day.
Evidently she had been talking with her brother.
But if she was smiling I was still smarting from
the sight of Dora Wharton and that impossible
Jayne. I felt that the fellow was impertinent and
presumptuous. What right did he have to monopo-


56
The Mystery of the Red Flame
lize her society? Unreasonable in me, do you say?
Well, I have already said that love was unreason-
able. What can I add to that? The desire to ex-
press myself could not be resisted.
“Mr.- Mr. Jayne seems to be very attentive
to Miss Dora ?”
“Yes," she replied, with her shrewd smile," he
does."
“He — he must admire her.”
“ Most men do,” she agreed.
“But — but," I blundered on, not thinking where
I might land," he acts as if he belonged to the
favored class.”
“Perhaps,” she said sweetly, “there may be a
reason.”
“Reason, reason!” I exclaimed wildly. “What
do you mean?"
She was silent for a moment. When she spoke
it was in a confidential tone.
"You seem like one of the family. I may speak
to you in confidence. Mr. Jayne has formally
asked Colonel Wharton for the hand of Dora.”
The words came like so many blows in my face.
There was a mist before my eyes. I had brought
this on myself and now I did not seem to have
strength enough to bear it. Mrs. Crilly must have
noticed the change in my face, for she said softly:


The Man Behind the Hedge 57
set
“You seem disappointed?”
Disappointed! The word was a mockery. To
see your fondest hopes dashed to earth. To find
the apple of your desire suddenly turned to Dead
Sea fruit and then to be asked if you were disap-
pointed! It was ghastly. But the dear old lady
meant well. I pulled myself together with a su-
preme effort of the will, and tried my best to coun-
terfeit a smile.
“I was surprised — that's all.”
There was a silence — an awkward silence of
some moments, and then I added :
“ And Miss Dora? Has she consented ?”
“Not yet. Young women of the present day
are not to be won so easily. They like to be wooed.
Dora is flattered by the proposal, but she asks for
time.”
Part of the awful load was lifted from my heart.
But only part. He was an eligible young man and
she was flattered by his proposal. Colonel Whar-
ton evidently wished the match and Aunt Sarah was
not against it. The odds seemed to be all in favor
of Mr. Victor Jayne. They seemed to be all
against Mr. Hugh Garland. In spite of the ray
of hope, my heart was like lead.
Suddenly I roused myself from my lethargy.
It was unmanly to surrender at the first trumpet of


58 The Mystery of the Red Flame
the opposition. I was young, and with the young
all things are possible. It might not be my fate
to possess Dora Wharton, but I would have to hear
that fate from her own lips. I realized that Mrs.
Crilly had left me and that I was standing alone
with my hand on the knob of the door of the
museum. I saw Jayne crossing the lawn in the
direction of the entrance to Hedgewater House.
He was alone and he seemed to be in a hurry.
As he reached the end of the path some one stepped
from behind the tall hedge that surrounded the gar-
den. Colonel Wharton called to me at that mo-
ment and I went inside the museum. But a picture
remained in my mind.
It was the picture of the mysterious man in gray
talking earnestly to Victor Jayne!


CHAPTER VI
THE POOL OF FLAME
AFTER dinner, on the evening of the second day,
we all assembled in the library, or living-room, of
Hedgewater House. It was a spacious apartment,
furnished in good taste. On one side, near the
windows overlooking the garden, was a grand pi-
ano. On the other side of the room was a large
open fireplace, filled with blazing logs to temper
the chill of an October evening. Near this open
fireplace was a bronze statue of Hercules, and next
to that was a small safe belonging to the master of
Hedgewater House.
Immediately after dinner Amy Smith, the maid,
brought in lamps, for it was the whim of Colonel
Wharton not to have gas or electricity in this room.
He wished to preserve the illusion and the atmos-
phere of Colonial times as much as possible. I was
thinking of this as the girl came into the room,
and glancing at her noticed that her eyes were red
from weeping. Mrs. Crilly, who was by my side,
caught my unspoken query.


60 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“Poor Amy,” she said. “I pity her. The
young man she was to marry has lost his money in
some foolish way and it has been found necessary
to postpone the wedding. She's a good girl; rather
illiterate, but absolutely loyal.”
I felt a passing pity for the girl too, but my mind
soon became engrossed with other things. Colonel
Wharton, Jules Jacquette and Victor Jayne came
in and took easy-chairs about the crackling fire.
The Colonel distributed Pittsburgh stogies, with
the “ gracious consent of the ladies," as he gal-
lantly phrased it, and the men were soon smoking
lazily and discussing masculine subjects.
In the meantime Dora had come in and taken
her place by the piano. She played well, and she
played the things that touched my heart. I looked
at dear Mrs. Crilly and found that she was indulg-
ing in the little cat-nap she enjoyed so much after
dinner. The coast was clear, so far as I was con-
cerned, so I quietly slipped over and stood by the
piano and watched the capable white fingers of
Dora Wharton as they touched the keys with a
certainty and lightness that filled me with admira-
tion. She looked up as my shadow was cast over
the music and a flush of pleasure overspread her
countenance. Presently she said with a playful
shrug of the shoulders :


The Pool of Flame
61
“You are at liberty to join Uncle in one of his
celebrated stogies — if it pleases you?
“It pleases me to stay right here — if it does not
displease you,” I retorted.
I could have sworn she blushed. Maybe it was
the reflection from the red lamp shade. Anyhow
the conditions were all favorable. The dim light,
the soft music, the beautiful girl, all united to fill
my heart with an unutterable tenderness. I do not
remember all the things I said to her, but I do know
that she listened with a pleased manner, all the
while accompanying my heart beats on the piano
with her gentle touch. What would any man done
in my place? It is true that I had only known her
for two short days. It is true that I was only an
employee of her uncle. What of that? I only
know that presently I found myself leaning over
and saying, ever so softly:
"I shall treasure this as one of the precious
nights of my life.”
The music ceased for a moment. Her fingers,
slipping from the keys, seemed to tremble. She
looked up at me with that quick, graceful movement
of the head. There was that quizzical, half-ex-
pectant, half-inquiring glance in her black eyes and
her smiling lips. The loose strands of her glossy
black hair `swept my face and filled me with an


62 The Mystery of the Red Flame
indescribable emotion. For a moment she seemed
on the point of speaking; then she gave a half sigh
and resumed her playing, very soft, low and tender.
That look from her dear eyes — to me — signi-
fied the dawn of love.
I felt that she had divined my secret, and I also
felt — or at least fervently hoped — that she re-
ciprocated my feelings.
Mrs. Crilly approached at that moment and, for
the time being, any intimacy between us was at an
end. But I could not keep my eyes off Dora and
her manner made me feel that I had touched a re-
sponsive chord in her heart. She played less skill-
fully now. She answered the conversation of Mrs.
Crilly in an abstracted manner and when she looked
at me and caught my eyes she glanced aside with
evident embarrassment.
· If these things did not signify love what did
they mean?
At that moment I felt that I was the happiest
man in the world. And I thanked my lucky stars
that Collector Fread and Bromley Barnes had given
me an assignment which brought me into contact
with Dora Wharton. The remembrance of the
reason for being at Hedgewater House brought me
to with a sudden start. What right did I have -
under the circumstances — to make love to the


The Pool of Flame
63
girl? My only excuse was that one look into her
clear black eyes had made me forget all about my
mission. But, fortunately, Mrs. Crilly had ap-
proached in time to save me from myself. I had
not said anything that an honorable and high-
minded man might not say.
From the other side of the room the droning of
men's voices could be heard. Aunt Sarah was say-
ing some inconsequential things to Dora. That
gave me time to think. My first definite feeling
was a feeling of immense gratitude that I had not
found the Red Diamond in Colonel Wharton's pos-
session. It was evident that I was on a false scent,
or rather that Bromley Barnes had placed me on a
false scent. That meant that in a little while I
should be recalled from Hedgewater House. Once
that happened, and I could speak without prejudice
to the interests of the Government, I would declare
myself in my real character to Dora Wharton.
What would she say? Ah! I was willing to take
my chances on that. I loved her and that was
all-sufficient.
It has been said that the darkest hour is just be-
fore the dawn. Similarly it may be asserted that
the brightest moment is just before the crash of our
dearest hopes. Never, in all my life, had I felt so
happy as I stood there looking down at Dora and


64
The Mystery of the Red Flame
weaving golden dreams of the future. While I
was going over this for the tenth time I was
aroused from my reverie by the voice of the col-
ored servant announcing:
“Doctah Henderson!”
Little did I dream that the chance appearance of
this man was to lead to an incident which was to
send my air castles toppling to the earth. Colonel
Wharton arose quickly and hurrying across the
room greeted the newcomer with great heartiness.
“My dear Doctor, I'm delighted to see you.
You're a stranger at Hedgewater House.”
“Not my fault, Wharton," was the cheery re-
sponse. “Too many sick people in this part of
the country; keeping me so infernally busy that I
don't have time to see my friends."
He paused and looked about the room inquir-
ingly. He had a smooth, florid face and blue eyes,
and the eyes twinkled brightly as he caught sight
of Dora Wharton. They met midway in the
apartment and as he greeted her with one hand he
clucked her under the chin with the other, with the
familiar manner of a friend of the family.
"Dora,” he said, "you're looking prettier to-
night than ever and I want you to know that's some
compliment."
Indeed, she looked transcendently beautiful, in


The Pool of Flame
65
my eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and her black
orbs sparkled like stars. After Doctor Henderson
had talked with her for some moments he was
presented to the others and finally sprawled his big
frame in an easy-chair. He lit the weed that was
handed him, and then leaning back in the cushions
luxuriously, he exclaimed, looking at Colonel
Wharton:
“Now, neighbor, amuse me!”
In the laugh that followed, Colonel Wharton
asked his visitor what sort of entertainment he pre-
ferred. Doctor Henderson looked at his host fix-
edly for a' moment and then said:
"Well, to tell the truth, Wharton, I've had a dis-
pute, and I thought you could help me to settle it.”
“ About what?” asked Colonel Wharton, with
an amused smile.
“ About diamonds."
Instantly Colonel Wharton straightened up and
was all attention.
“Well?”
“It was a question concerning which was the
greatest diamond in the world. I insisted that it
was the Koh-i-noor, that magnificent mountain of
light which passed through the hands of so many
rulers before it was finally given to Queen Victoria
in 1850."


66 The Mystery of the Red Flame
cli
The Colonel nodded his head gravely.
“The Koh-i-noor," he admitted, “was a great
diamond, but I do not believe it was or is the great-
est in the world.”
“How about the Cullinnan?” piped up Victor
Jayne from his place in the corner.
The Colonel chuckled.
“ That's like a tailor — it has nine lives. When
it was found in South Africa in 1905 it was the
size of a man's fist. It was the intention of the
Transvaal Government to present it to King Ed-
ward VII, but it has since been cut up into nine
parts and for that reason has ceased to interest
diamond experts.”
Jules Jacquette lifted his massive head from a
reclining position.
"If I may be pardoned,” he said, “I think you
gentlemen are both wide of the mark. What do
you mean by the greatest diamond in the world ?
Do you mean the most valuable one, counted
in dollars and cents? Do you mean the rarest
one? And do you speak of white diamonds
alone?”
“Why," came the voice of Aunt Sarah, “I never
knew that there was any color but white. Of
course I know that some look yellow, but I supposed
the flaws --"


The Pool of Flame
67
“ Your diamond education," interrupted Jac-
quette suavely but with irony, “has evidently been
sadly neglected. The Great Mogul is rose colored;
the Florentine, now in the royal house of Austria,
a bright yellow; the Dresden Green, owned by the
King of Saxony, a clear apple green color, and the
Hope Diamond you will recall as being of a
sapphire-blue color."
Doctor Henderson peered at the speaker curi-
ously from behind his gold-rimmed spectacles.
“We seem to have an expert in our midst,” he
said drily.
Jacquette rose, placed his hand on his heart and
bowed low.
“A compliment from the great doctor is a com-
pliment indeed.”
The Doctor did not notice the last remark, but
addressed himself to Colonel Wharton.
"I have insisted that there is no such thing as a
perfect red diamond.”
“Ah, that is where the famous doctor is wrong.
14”
It was Jules Jacquette who had broken into
the conversation. But he stopped as suddenly
as he had started and seemed sorry he had
spoken.
Colonel Wharton was exhibiting signs of excite-


68
The Mystery of the Red Flame
ment. All of those in the room had grouped them-
selves about the speakers.
“What were you going to say?" asked Doctor
Henderson of the South American.
“Nothing, Monsieur, nothing," was his unblush-
ing response.
“I believe you are a Brazilian,” pursued the med-
ical man.
Again that profound obeisance.
“I have that great honor, Monsieur."
“Well, there was a famous red diamond that
was found in the mines of Brazil. I—"
Colonel Wharton's hands had been twitching
nervously. He paced the room and then abruptly
broke into the conversation.
“You mean the Star of the South, doctor?”
“ Exactly — do you know anything about it?”
“I know everything."
The impressive manner in which this was said
riveted every eye on the master of Hedgewater
House. He spoke now in a tone of suppressed ex-
citement.
“ The Star of the South was cut into two equal
parts. One part is in the National Museum in Rio
Janeiro. The other passed from hand to hand and
is now in this country. These two stones are the
only perfect red diamonds in existence."


The Pool of Flame
69
“That sounds a little like a fairy tale,” laughed
the Doctor. “How is it,” he added, " that if it's
in this country you haven't added it to your collec-
tion?”
“I have!”
Everybody started at these two words. They
rang out, in the tense silence of the room, like two
sharp pistol shots. It is impossible to adequately
describe the effect they had on me. I wondered if
the Colonel were in his right senses. If so, his
words meant that I had been living in a fool's para-
dise. It was evident that the others were as much
amazed as myself. Jules Jacquette arose and
placed his hand warningly on Wharton's sleeve.
He turned to Henderson with an insincere smile on
his lips.
“ The Colonel is just having his little jest with
us. Why not finish our cigars in the garden?”
But Wharton angrily pushed the South Ameri-
can from him. At the same moment the Doctor's
voice rang out:
“Wharton, you can't bluff me. If you've got
the Red Diamond produce it!”
Even then I hoped against hope that he did not
have the stone. Every one in the group leaned for-
ward expectantly. I could see Dora, her face
white, and her lips parted.


70 The Mystery of the Red Flame
Without another word the Colonel dropped
down on his knees on the floor and we could see
him fumbling with the combination of the safe.
His long thin fingers trembled, but he did not hesi-
tate for a moment. Presently there was a clicking
sound and the heavy door of the safe was thrown
open. He reached in one of the compartments and
drew forth a large, square case. He stood erect,
the thing in his hand. His face was waxen and
there was a wild glare in his eyes — almost a
maniacal glare. The Brazilian made a move as if
to restrain him, and then, seeing that fierce look,
drew back. The Colonel spoke:
“ Gentlemen, the Star of the South!”
He touched a spring, the lid sprang open and the
half darkened room was filled with a ray of light.
It was like a pool of flame. Never before nor since
have I looked upon such a brilliant thing. It was
blinding, dazzling, overpowering and its refulgence
made me gasp for breath!
After the first shock I could see that the setting,
in its magnificence, matched the stone. It was a
worthy frame for an incomparable diamond. It
was of gold, in the form of a sunburst, with sharp
pointed edges. The Colonel shut the lid sharply,
stooped down, replaced it in its receptacle and then
closed the safe.


The Pool of Flame
71
I can only describe the intensity of those few mo-
ments by saying that not a word, not a sound, came
from any of those present while this strange per-
formance was in progress.


CHAPTER VII
DORA RECEIVES A LETTER
WHILE Colonel Wharton was stooping over in
the act of closing the safe, and before he rose to his
feet, I happened to look up and thought I saw a face
flattened against the window pane, gazing in at
the performance with fascinated interest. I made
my way there in two or three quick strides — and
found nothing. Was it a figment of my imagina-
tion? Possibly. My mind was in a whirl, and I
was fully capable of seeing things, as the saying
goes.
When I stepped back to the far side of the room,
Doctor Henderson and the others had resumed their
seats and Colonel Wharton was talking to them in
a voice that still quivered with excitement. He
tried to appear at ease, but I could see that a re-
straint had come over the entire party.
For the first time since I met him, Jules Jacquette
was plainly Austered. This estimable Brazilian
rubbed his hand across the bristles of his closely
shaven head and scowled furiously at the burning
72


Dora Receives a Letter
73
logs. Usually he dominated the conversation, but
now he was content to be still and think. Occa-
sionally he bit his finger nails and knitted his bushy
eyebrows. And, almost constantly, he beat a tattoo
with his small feet.
The others seemed to be similarly affected.
Doctor Henderson looked as if he were sorry he
had introduced the subject, while Victor Jayne kept
his eyes glued upon Jules Jacquette as if to get his
cue from the Brazilian. Aunt Sarah was plainly
perturbed, and Dora's lips twitched as if it were all
she could do to keep from bursting into tears.
And how about myself? Ah, I fear that my
poor words would not begin to describe my emo-
tions. The thing I had hoped and prayed might
not happen had actually come to pass. Colonel
Wharton was the possessor of a rare diamond that
had been smuggled through the custom lines and
I— Hugh Garland — was pledged to the Govern-
ment of the United States to recover that diamond
and to bring the offender to justice. Every one in
the room realized that the Colonel had been guilty
of a serious indiscretion in exhibiting the diamond
– that is, everybody but the Colonel. That, to my
mind, was the one thing in his favor. A guilty
man could not act with such childlike innocence.
And yet his action in keeping it locked from view


74
The Mystery of the Red Flame
mo
was suspicious to say the least. How did he get
it? And where did he get it? These were two
questions which it was my duty to ask him.
But the most agonizing part of the business was
the effect it might have upon my future relations
with Dora Wharton. I loved her, how deeply was
only becoming evident now that I had reached the
parting of the ways. I could not bear the thought
of giving her up. Yet how could I go on weaving
the net of guilt about her uncle and at the same
time expect to win and retain her affection? The
question was too deep and too perplexing. And,
worst of all, what would she think of me when she
discovered that I was a Special Agent of the United
States Treasury placed in the house of a man who
was more than a father to her? I covered my face
with my hands and made no attempt to answer that
mental query. I was roused from my stupor by
hearing the voice of Colonel Wharton talking in the
grandiloquent tone of a professional lecturer. He
had recovered his self-possession and was now in
the boastful mood of the collector who has gained
a coveted prize.
“Gentlemen,” he was saying, “it is needless to
say what I have shown you has been shown you in
confidence for the present. In the meanwhile
you see before you a man who possesses the only


Dora Receives a Letter
75
rare diamond in the world not owned by royalty.
The Koh-i-noor, as you have heard, is a possession
of the English crown; the Excelsior or Jubilee Dia-
mond belonged to Queen Victoria; the Great Mogul
to one of the princes of India; the Florentine is in
the jewel box of the Royal House of Austria; the
Lancy, cut for Charles the Bold, was afterwards
owned by Queen Elizabeth; the Dresden Green is
in the treasure chest of the King of Saxony; and
the Star of the South — one of the only two per-
fect red diamonds in existence — is in the posses-
sion of Basil Wharton!”.
He paused, as if to hear the applause, but none
came, and the poor gentleman, ringing the bell,
ordered the servant to serve the gentlemen with
sherry.
While this was going on I tried to map out a
plan of action for myself. My final instructions
from Bromley Barnes bade me consult with him
before taking any definite action. My business was
to locate the diamond and then inform him of the
fact. He had arranged his movements so that I
might reach him at any hour of the day or night.
I could not leave Hedgewater House at this critical
stage of the proceedings and yet I must communi-
cate with Barnes. I knew there was a telephone in
the hallway adjoining the living-room and 'I re-


76
The Mystery of the Red Flame
solved to use it. Leaving my place without attract-
ing attention I went to the enclosure and called the
number of the veteran investigator. To my satis-
faction he answered himself.
“What news?” he asked.
“The stars are shining," I responded.
That was the form that had been agreed upon
between us, and it meant “I have seen the Red
Diamond.”
From the pause that ensued I could tell that this
news had caught his breath.
“Do you think they will shine until morning?”
he asked, presently.
“Yes," I replied.
“Do you want me now?”
"No."
“ All right," was the contented conclusion. “ I'll
see you in the morning."
When I resumed my place the gentlemen were
still sipping their sherry. I had not been missed.
I was sure I had not been overheard at the tele-
phone, but even if I had been no one in the house
would understand my cryptic remarks. Dora was
at the piano, but one could see with half an eye that
she was dreadfully disturbed. She started to play
something, but stopped in the midst of it and left
the instrument. She passed the window which


Dora Receives a Letter
7 7
overlooked the garden to come over to our side of
the room. Suddenly she gave a scream, a cry of
terror. I ran just in time to prevent her from
falling to the floor. Mrs. Crilly and the others
were at her side in an instant.
“ What is it, dear?” asked the old lady anx-
iously.
“Oh, it's nothing, Aunt Sarah,” she replied with
a half sob. “ I'm just nervous and overwrought.”
She recovered with astonishing quickness, and
when Colonel Wharton urged her to go to her own
room and rest she declined, saying:
“I'm ashamed of myself for causing you such
annoyance and just to prove that I am all right I
shall play your favorite selection.”
Thereupon she sat down at the piano and played
the wedding march from Lohengrin with a dash
and abandon that elicited the hearty applause of all
the guests. I stood by the side of the piano and
my feelings were feelings of mingled joy and sor-
row. Two hours before and I would have been
transported with delight at this suggestive selection,
but now it filled me with misgivings and seemed to
be a mockery of my hopes.
Worst of all, when she spoke to me it was in a
strained and unnatural tone. To add to the misery
of it all my replies were confused and disconnected.


78
The Mystery of the Red Flame
Once she glanced at me out of those questioning
eyes and I was utterly unable to return her glance.
Luckily, Aunt Sarah came up at that moment and
urged her to retire for the night. That gave me
time to recover my self-possession. Dora, with the
perversity of her sex, insisted that she was all
right and the dear old lady was compelled to aban-
don her entreaties. As Mrs. Crilly moved away I
turned to Dora with a trace of anxiety in my voice.
“ Have you really recovered?”.
“Yes,” she answered in a low tone.
There were several moments of strained silence
between us. Presently she looked up at me with
that candor for which her black eyes were distin-
guished.
“I suppose you are curious to know the cause
of my foolish outburst?”.
“I am."
“Well,” she said, dropping her voice, “as I
passed the window I imagined I saw a man peering
into the room. I could not control myself — and
so I screamed.”
" Quite natural,” I commented, more disturbed
than I was willing to admit. I, too, had imagined
a face at the window, but I did not mention it to
Dora because it would only cause her unnecessary
alarm.


Dora Receives a Letter 79
“ I'm sure I was mistaken,” she continued, “but
I'd be glad if you would take a turn around the
veranda. I don't want to speak of it to Uncle be-
cause he is not himself to-night.”
I cheerfully undertook the mission because I was
just as anxious as the girl to discover if any one
had been eavesdropping during the time the Red
Diamond was being exhibited to the company.
Colonel Wharton was engaged in a noisy discussion
about local politics so that I was able to slip out of
the house unobserved. The porches were deserted.
The moon was shining brightly so that it was pos-
sible to get a good view of the grounds. Not a soul
was to be seen anywhere. To make sure I made a
hasty trip around the house but without result.
Dora was waiting for me and when I made my re-
port she seemed greatly relieved.
“It's just a case of a woman's nerves,” she
laughed. “ Please forget about it.”
I promised, of course, but it was easier said than
done. The series of events of the evening had un-
settled me and the probable consequences of the in-
cidents filled me.with gloomy forebodings.
If Dora still felt depressed she managed to con-
ceal the fact very cleverly. She joined Mrs. Crilly
and the gentlemen, and in a short while no one
would have imagined that the serenity of the occa-


80
The Mystery of the Red Flame
sion had been so rudely disturbed only a short time
before.
Jules Jacquette occupied the center of the stage
for the remainder of the evening. He seemed to
interest Doctor Henderson immensely, and his con-
sciousness of that fact caused him to be more volu-
ble than usual. The talk drifted to travel and the
Brazilian told of some of the places he had visited.
He became positively eloquent, and while he talked
he gesticulated freely with his wonderful hands.
I could not take my eyes off those hands. Some
people express themselves with their eyes, but if
M. Jacquette had remained mute he could still have
made himself understood with those expressive
hands. They were large, as I have said, but they
were not clumsy or unwieldy. They ran the gamut
of the emotions. They were violent and they were
gentle; they were harsh and they were soft; they
were quiet and they were demonstrative, but al-
ways, to me, they were eager, greedy hands, ex-
pressing the character of their owner.
Victor Jayne had less to say than any one in the
room. Once or twice he attempted to make con-
versation with Dora Wharton, but received such
scant encouragement that he soon gave it up for a
bad job. So he remained huddled up in an arm-
chair, stroking his long, stringy mustache and


Dora Receives a Letter 81
smoking one cigarette after another. I wondered .
if it were possible that Dora could feel any attach-
ment to such a languid person.
Colonel Wharton was himself again. With the
closing of the door of the safe he seemed to have
shut up his evil genii. He became perfectly
normal. The wild look left his eyes and with it
the unnatural excitement that had been produced
by the exhibition of the Red Diamond. When the
talk left the subject of coins and gems he was the
quiet, self-possessed gentleman that might be ex-
pected to preside over such a splendid establish-
ment. There was something aristocratic about this
tall, slight, stoop-shouldered man. Occasionally
there came that abstracted air which became him so
well and separated him from the run of common-
place men. I learned that he had won an enviable
distinction while defending his country as a soldier,
and I believe there was a saber cut on the forehead
which came at a moment when he was leading his
regiment into action. But the cut was concealed
by the way in which he brushed his hair and no one
presumed to speak of it in his presence.
It must have been after eleven o'clock when Doc-
tor Henderson arose to say good-night. He de-
clared that he had spent a most enjoyable evening,
although there must have been a mental reservation


82 The Mystery of the Red Flame
during those few moments when Colonel Wharton
was holding up the Red Diamond to the gaze of his
startled friends. He said good-by with great af-
fability to all of the men and he went so far as to
kiss Dora on the cheek. He called her his little
girl, which was no misstatement, for I learned that
he had known and loved her from her infancy.
Colonel Wharton escorted him to the door and
then rejoined his guests about the open fireplace.
It was then that an incident occurred which
caused me further uneasiness. Amy Smith, the
maid, came into the room with a letter in her hand.
It seemed strange to me that the girl should be up
and about at such a late hour. She looked around
until her gaze fell upon Dora Wharton, and then
instead of going to her mistress, as might be ex-
pected, she beckonedi Dora toward the doorway.
Miss Wharton responded and there was a subdued
conversation between the two, Dora nodding her
head in acquiescence. The maid left the room and
Dora went over near one of the lamps and hastily
tore the flap of the envelope which the maid had
given her. She pulled the note paper from its cov-
ering and read it with apparent haste and eagerness.
“Oh!” she exclaimed to herself and put her
hand to her heart.
I was in a position where I could see her face


Dora Receives a Letter
83
distinctly and I saw it turn pale. There was a look
of anguish in her black eyes and she gave every
evidence of a woman in deep distress. I yearned to
go over to her and take her in my arms and to beg
her to confide in me. But that was obviously out
of the question. While I looked I heard the group
of men breaking up preparatory to retiring for the
night. There was nothing left for me except to do
likewise. In going toward the stairway I passed
near where Dora was standing. The note was.
crushed between her clenched fingers. As I ap-
proached she hastily thrust it into the bosom of her
dress and held out her hand to me.
“Good night,” she said in a low, weak voice.
“ I'm glad we have you with us."
I passed up the stairway slowly and as I reached
the second landing I glanced back. She was still
standing there with a look of unutterable woe in
her black eyes. I reached my room feeling very
miserable.
What was in that letter to cause her so much
grief?
Where had it come from at that unusual hour?
My harassed brain refused to answer either ques-
tion.


CHAPTER VIII
BEHIND GREAT HERCULES
I was in no mood for sleep, so I sat by the west
window gazing alternately at the waters of the
Harmony River and looking over the grounds sur-
rounding Hedgewater House. The windows were
so situated that I could see the one as readily as the
other. The moon was under a cloud and the waters
of the river looked dark and sluggish. The
grounds about the house seemed desolate. There
was a stiff breeze blowing and the dead leaves
rustled about the walks with a mournfulness that
matched the sadness in my heart.
How was I to face the ordeal of the morrow?
Barnes would come to see me and give me further
instructions concerning the Red Diamond. Sup-
pose he should order me to confiscate it in the name
of the United States Government? Worse still,
suppose he should instruct me to take Colonel Whar-
ton into custody on the charge of smuggling?
How would I appear in the eyes of Dora Wharton ?
84


Behind Great Hercules
85
Surely she would despise me. But my duty? Ah,
there was the rub! To perform my duty, to win
the temporary approbation of the Department, and,
in doing so, to lose life-long happiness. What a
predicament for a man to be placed in; what a cruel
test of loyalty to love and devotion to duty!
As I stood by the window watching the waters
I tried to review the series of events which had
brought me in my present position. I thought of
my studies in coins and precious stones, and of how
I had worked as an examiner in the office of the
Appraiser of Customs and how eagerly I had looked
forward to my appointment as a special agent of
the Treasury Department.
Well, I had won the appointment and here I was,
with my first case staring me in the face. Yet I
was unhappy. Need I say why? The thought of
Dora Wharton's scorn filled me with a sort of fear.
I would willingly have faced death in the perform-
ance of my duty, but how could I stand the wither-
ing glance of her honest eyes ? I tried to see my-
self from every possible point of view in the hope
of finding some extenuating circumstances in my
present plight.
What did I look like in the eyes of my friends?
They regarded me as a bright, clever, industrious
servant of the Government. They felt sure that I


86 The Mystery of the Red Flame
ces.
would do my duty under any and all circumstances.
I know they constantly dwelt upon my fine sense
of honor and upon the depths of my loyalty to my
superiors. This was the strain in which Bromley
Barnes talked about me, and I know that he had
filled Collector Fread with the same notions.
How would I look in the eyes of Colonel Whar-
ton and Dora and Aunt Sarah? With the best feel-
ing in the world they could not think of me except
with a feeling of detestation. They would consider
me in the light of a spy and an ingrate. The words
made me shudder; but there was no escape from
them — at least not in the minds of these confiding
people. They would feel that I had come to them
under false pretenses, that I had won their regard
only to abuse it.
How did I look in my own eyes? If I went to
the mirror I would see a clean-shaven, comely-look-
ing young fellow of twenty-seven, full of life and
energy and ready for any adventure. That was
pleasing enough so far as the exterior man went.
But how did I feel in my heart? Ah, that was a
different question. I knew my intentions were
good. I knew the work I was doing was in the
interest of law and order and for the integrity of
the Government. Under ordinary circumstances I
would have felt proud of the part I was playing,
SI
cre


Behind Great Hercules
87
.
but with Dora Wharton in the case the circum-
stances were anything but ordinary.
I roused myself from these reveries with a start
and looking at my watch discovered that it was
nearly one o'clock in the morning. I scolded my-
self for not going to bed. I might sit up until
morning without being able to change white to
black and vice versa. A night's sleep might solve
the whole problem to my own satisfaction — if not
to that of others. Before retiring I left my apart-
ment and walked to the bathroom at the end of the
corridor. On returning I noticed a dim light in
the great living-room on the lower floor. I paid
no attention to that, but as I was about to re-
enter my bed chamber I heard a rustling sound be-
low. :
Some one was in the living-room!
Thoroughly aroused, I tiptoed to the side of the
banister. The faint light came from a lamp on
one of the tables. The great room looked ghost-
like in that semi-darkness. The wood in the open
fireplace was still smoldering and the chairs in front
of it were arranged in a semi-circle just as they had
been left two hours before. From my place on the
second floor I could see the edge of the little writing
desk and next to it the iron safe, with its bright
coat of varnish faintly reflecting the dim light of


88 The Mystery of the Red Flame
the lamp. And, looming above them all, was the
giant statue of Hercules. It was possible to get a
view of the door leading into the room and of the
windows overlooking the garden. They were all
closed. It was not likely that any one could have
entered from the outside. A dead quiet pervaded
the place and I began to wonder if I had not been
mistaken. Nevertheless I waited, determined to
reassure myself before retiring for the night.
Presently I caught the flash of a light. I looked
and looked, and, after a while, made the discovery
that some one was huddled up against the large
statue of Hercules, near the foot of the stairs.
There was a faint sound as of some one breathing
heavily. Mentally I damned the statue for ob-
structing my view and at the same time furnishing
such a convenient refuge for the intruder. Even
at that moment I wondered at the whim which had
caused Colonel Wharton to place such a clumsy and
inappropriate thing in his living-room. Also, at
the same moment I speculated idly upon the twelve
great labors Hercules is supposed to have under-
taken. Was any one of them as nerve-racking as
the job I had on hand? Were his struggles against
the embodiments of evil to be compared with my
fight to reconcile love and duty ? Another move-
ment from the person below aroused me from my


Behind Great Hercules 89
useless meditations. I could reach but one con-
clusion.
Some one was preparing to open the safe and
steal the Red Diamond.
I determined that it was my duty to act. In less
time than it takes to relate the fact I had hurried
to my room, possessed myself of my revolver and
returned to my post of observation. I determined
to move with caution and not to arouse the house
unless it was absolutely necessary. The person by
the statue had not moved during my brief absence.
Whoever it was seemed quite as fearful as myself.
Presently the flash of light became more pro-
nounced and I realized that the intruder was pro-
ceeding cautiously around the side of the room and
in the direction of the safe. Then, suddenly, I
made an astonishing discovery.
It was a woman!
Almost unconsciously I put my revolver away,
but remained at my post looking over the rail at
the strange figure below. She was clad in a blue
bathrobe, which had evidently been hastily thrown
over her night dress. Her long hair, loose and in
disorder, flowed down her back, and in her hand she
carried a candlestick containing a lighted waxen
taper. I pinched myself to make sure that it was
not all a dream. But it was real enough — only
C
axen .


90 The Mystery of the Red Flame
too real. The woman was in her bare feet and she
tiptoed and moved with provoking slowness, paus-
ing every now and then to make sure that no one
was in the room. Presently she reached her des-
tination, and placing the candle on the top of the
safe stooped down and began to fumble with the
knob.
Suddenly there came a puff of wind — from
where I could not guess — and extinguished the
candle.
“Oh!” came the half-suppressed cry from the
woman, and then all was silence.
I never moved. The silence continued for a long
while and then I heard the scratching of a match
and the candle was relighted.
The woman looked around nervously before re-
suming operations. Seeing no one, she began turn-
ing the knob of the safe, but evidently with poor
success. Did she know the combination, or was
she working at random?
All the while I stood there, dazed with astonish-
ment at this strange performance. I was wonder-
ing who she could be. So far as I knew there were
but three women in the house, Mrs. Crilly, Dora
Wharton and Amy Smith, the maid, and the
thought of any of these in connection with the
midnight wanderer was quickly dismissed. Could
nance


Behind Great Hercules
9]
it be possible that there was some one else in the
house of whose presence I was unaware?
My impulse was to go downstairs, seize the thief
and demand to know what she was doing. But the
desire to see how far she would go held me in my
place. Unconsciously, however, I walked to the
head of the stairway and down one step in order
to get a better view. At that moment the trouble-
some bolts yielded to her touch and the door of the
safe flew open. In my excitement I leaned forward
and a loose board in the stairway gave a loud creak.
Instantly I drew back so that I could not be seen
from below. But the woman at the safe was ter-
ribly scared. She recoiled and almost fell to the
floor. As she regained her position she turned her
face to me for the first time and what I saw gave
me a shock that made my heart palpitate and my
brain reel.
It was Dora Wharton!
There could be no possible doubt about her iden-
tity. She was standing now, holding the candle-
stick in her hand and gazing about to learn the
cause of the unexpected creaking. The candle
threw its waxen light on her face and never have I
seen a face so full of pain and suffering. It was
Dora and it was not Dora. The Dora I knew was
young, full of life and vivacity, with a quizzical


92 The Mystery of the Red Flame
look in her black eyes and smiling lips. The
woman by the safe looked haggard from terror, the
gaze in her eyes was that of a criminal caught in
the act, and her lips were unsmiling and contracted.
Yet, in spite of the contrast, which made her look
like another person, I knew only too well that it
was the one and only Dora Wharton who was des-
tined to have such an influence over my life.
I waited in breathless silence to see what she
would do next. Suddenly she closed the door of
the safe and snuffed out the candle and I knew that
she was slowly making her way along the staircase.
There was only one thing for me to do and that
was to return to my room. If my mind had been
filled with perplexities in the beginning of the eve-
ning it was more so now. I locked the door and
began to undress slowly and with my mind on what
I had seen in the living-room. I conjured up a
dozen reasons for Dora Wharton's appearance at
that hour and under those circumstances, but none
of them satisfied me. Was it not possible that she
might have overlooked some little trinket and gone
down to the safe to get it before retiring? Yes,
but it was not probable. Why should she creep
downstairs in her bare feet like a thief in the night?
Finally, in despair, I threw myself into the bed
and tried to sleep. But sleep did not seem to be


CHAPTER IX
MORE MYSTERY
I AWOKE from my troubled sleep early the next
morning and found the sun shining in the window
of my bedroom. Ordinarily that is the augury of
a cheerful day, but the weight of misgiving that
lay on my heart made me anything but a happy
man. I had to face the most trying day of my
life, and how I was going to come out of it was
more than I could guess. My head ached and my
eyes were blurred, but through the fog of doubt
and perplexity I could always see the face of Dora
Wharton.
I dressed and went downstairs and had the un-
happiness to breakfast alone. No one to look at,
no one to talk to; nothing to distract me from my
thoughts. The maid informed me that Miss
Wharton was too ill to leave her room and that
the others did not care for breakfast. Surely an
extraordinary state of affairs! And the appear-
ance and manner of Amy Smith in conveying me
this bit of information did not add to the hilarity
of the occasion. Her eyes were red from weeping,
94


More Mystery
95
her hair was frowsy and disheveled, and she looked
as if she had not slept during the night. When I
spoke to her she answered in an absent-minded way
that provoked my ire. I spoke sharply to her and
she seemed to be on the verge of tears.
What sort of a house could this be? No one in it
seemed normal.
I barely tasted my breakfast and took a turn or
two in the garden in the hope of reviving my droop-
ing spirits. But the picture of the girl in the blue
bath robe kneeling in front of the safe kept con-
stantly recurring to my mind. And with it was
the terrified look on the face of Dora Wharton as
she glanced around that silent room. What ex-
planation would she make? What explanation
could she make?
While these thoughts were racing through my
mind I came face to face with her in the garden.
Her cheeks were as white as chalk and there were
rings under her eyes. Instinctively I pitied her
and I tried to form words that would express that
feeling. But she did not give me the chance. She
saw me but she did not look at me. She gave some
mumbled words of greeting, drew her skirts to one
side, as if she did not want to come in contact with
me, and hurried into the living-room.
My impulse was to go after her and demand an


96 The Mystery of the Red Flame
explanation. But what right did I have to do that?
Possibly my official position would have been a
sufficient justification, but if I spoke to her at all it
would be simply as Hugh Garland, who had now
reached the stage where he adored the ground on
which she walked.
Yes, I loved her in spite of the fact that appear-
ances were against her, and that I had been placed
in the position of watching her as well as the other
members of the household.
While I was indulging in these thoughts I was
interrupted by the entrance of Doctor Henderson.
The appearance of this rosy-cheeked wholesome
person was like a breath of fresh air. He was so
transparently honest that he restored one's belief
in the goodness of human nature. He fairly
beamed at me through his gold-rimmed spectacles.
“My boy," he cried cheerily, “how are you feel-
ing this bright sunshiny morning ?”
I was shameless enough to say that I was well
and happy.
“How could you feel any other way on such a
delightful day?” he retorted.
If he could have seen the desolation in my heart
he would have had an answer.
“ Where's Wharton ?” he asked. “I want to
speak to him.”



“THE DIAMOND'S GONE!'”


--
-
----
一一​.
一一
​


More Mystery
90
went on both knees and peered into the little com-
partments. His naturally pale face became waxen
and he fell back with a groan:
“ Gone!” he murmured feebly. “The dia-
mond's gone!”
Doctor Henderson looked at me with amazement
depicted upon his honest face. He assisted Colonel
Wharton to a chair and I rushed out of the room
and brought him a glass of water. While he sipped
it the Doctor went down on all fours and fumbled
in the safe. In a few moments he arose, looking
very grave.
“He's right,” he said simply, “it's not there."
Mrs. Crilly came in and I told her what had hap-
pened. She gave a shrill scream which aroused the
household. In a little while Jules Jacquette, Victor
Jayne and some of the servants had come into the
room. There were confused explanations during
which each one gazed blankly at his neighbor.
Dora Wharton was the last one to arrive and I
noticed that she remained apart from the others
and did not look in the safe or ask any questions.
Her face had the pallor of death and there was
agony in her eyes.
If ever guilt was depicted upon the countenance
of a human being it showed itself on the face of
Dora Wharton.


100
The Mystery of the Red Flame
as
At that moment my supreme desire was to take
her in my arms and tell her that I would defend
her against the world.
But I could say nothing; do nothing.
Jules Jacquette looked at Colonel Wharton in-
tently and asked him if any one but himself knew
the combination of the safe, but the master of
Hedgewater House stared at the Brazilian vacantly
- and said nothing. Some one else asked him a
question but the Colonel made no reply. He was
dazed and moved around the room as if bereaved
of his senses. When he was able to speak it was
only to say to himself:
“ Terrible! Terrible!”.
At this stage of the proceedings Jacquette demon-
strated his forcefulness by practically taking charge
of things. He looked disturbed — quite as much
disturbed as any one in the room — but he did not
lose his self-possession.
“Doctor Henderson,” he said in a tone of au-
thority, “our good friend the Colonel needs your
kind offices. Won't you please look after him?”
The physician looked surprised at this command,
but he evidently realized its reasonableness, for he
took Colonel Wharton aside and began to write out
a prescription for him. While he was doing this
Jacquette turned to Jayne and said quietly:
oom


More Mystery
101
“See that no one leaves the house."
As Jayne left the room the Brazilian next turned
to me:
“ Were you here when Colonel Wharton opened
the safe?”
I resented his assumption of authority and was
about to make some sharp retort, but changed my
mind and said:
“Yes."
“ Did you know the combination of the safe?”
“No!” I exclaimed sharply.
“I trust,” he said suavely, but with the sugges-
tion of irony in his tone, “ that I have not offended
my young friend. Is it unreasonable to suppose
that the secretary of Colonel Wharton should know
the combination of Colonel Wharton's safe?”
“No," I admitted, “but it happens that I am
not Colonel Wharton's secretary. My business
is simply to classify his collection of coins and
gems.”
“A distinction without a difference,” he said in
his oiliest tones. “My young friend is over-mod-
est. That is all.”
I could have punched him for his impudence in
putting me in the wrong. I cha fed over his ex-
amination because I felt that I should be the man
to do the cross-questioning and that he should be


102
The Mystery of the Red Flame
on the defensive. Yet my time had not come. For
the present, at least, I could not afford to reveal
myself in my official character.
Doctor Henderson joined us at that moment, fol-
lowed by Colonel Wharton, who seemed to have
partially recovered.
“Gentlemen," said the Doctor, “it seems to me
that we are losing valuable time. Why hasn't some
one sent for the police?”
“No, no!” cried Colonel Wharton excitedly.
"I don't want the police.”
“ But, Wharton, that's the only way you can pos-
sibly recover your diamond.”
"I don't want the police! I don't want the po-
lice!” he repeated irritably.
“ Why?”
“That's my business,” was the quick retort.
“Gentlemen,” said Jacquette with the air of one
who seeks to pour oil upon the troubled waters.
“I think I can understand the Colonel's aversion to
the notoriety that would come to him if this matter
were given to the police. The newspapers would be
full of it. We would have descriptions of the dia-
mond, pictures of Hedgewater House, and inter-
views galore. Imagine the effect of all that upon
a man of Colonel Wharton's sensibilities —”
“What of that?" interrupted the Doctor, with


More Mystery
103
I
.
an amused smile, “if it helped to bring back the
diamond?”
“I don't want it, I tell you," shrieked the Colonel
in hysterical tones, “ I don't want it!”
“Oh, very well,” was the crestfallen response.
“ You happen to be the doctor in this case and
whatever you say goes."
Jules Jacquette now stepped forward and calmly
took possession of the situation. He rubbed his
big hand across his bristly hair, saying:
“ Gentlemen, it must be evident to you that this
is what the police call an inside job. There are no
indications to prove that any one has broken into
the house. Hence suspicion must fall on all who
are here. It is a painful suggestion to make, but
I must in justice to myself at least — insist that all
of the rooms be ransacked and that each one of us
submit to a personal search.”
“Oh, not that!” sobbed Dora Wharton. “Not
that!”
“Dora is right," said the Colonel feebly. “I do
not wish that indignity to be placed upon my
guests."
“ But your guests insist upon it.”
Before any one realized fully what was being done
the Brazilian had thrown up his big hands and was
ordering Doctor Henderson to search him. The


104 The Mystery of the Red Flame
physician complied in a shame-faced way — and
found nothing. Victor Jayne was the second to
volunteer and in his case, as in that of the South
American, there were no results. The next mo-
ment I found Jacquette going through my pockets,
patting my coat and trousers on the side with the
air of a professional detective and otherwise mak-
ing himself obnoxious. My cheeks burned with
shame, but I could not resist without placing myself
in a false position. But then and there I resolved
that if the opportunity ever presented itself I would
make the smooth-faced rascal pay for the indignity
he had placed on me.
After that the servants, one at a time, were com-
pelled to go through the ordeal, and were cross-ex-
amined into the bargain. Finally the trunks, the
bureaus and all of the articles in all the rooms were
carefully searched in the hope of locating the miss-
ing diamond.
It was not found!
An hour later Doctor Henderson left the house
fussing and fuming and denouncing Colonel Whar-
ton for his obstinacy in not sending for the police.
"A good detective," he declared vehemently,
“ might clear the business up in twenty-four hours.”
His remark gave me much food for thought.
Why should I not clear it up? I was there for


More Mystery
105
that purpose and I knew more about the business
than any one in the house. Worst of all, I could
not rid myself of the impression that Dora Whar-
ton had it in her power to solve the problem. I
did not want to feel that she was under a cloud.
I would not permit myself to think of her as a cul-
prit. I preferred to feel that she could give an
explanation of her conduct that would be satisfac-
tory to all concerned. Yet if that was the case why
did she permit her uncle to suffer as he was un-
doubtedly suffering?
I had no heart for the work of arranging the
coins in the museum and Colonel Wharton was too
much distracted and dazed to give the business any
attention. The Red Diamond filled my mind to the
exclusion of everything else.
Finally, I resolved to go to Dora and put two
questions to her which would end the suspense. I
• had immense faith in her truthfulness and felt that
her replies would clarify the situation. It was
nearly an hour later that I found her sitting at the
piano in the living-room. She seemed to be bend-
ing over a sheet of music, but when I came near I
was pained to see that tears were trickling down
her cheeks. I was embarrassed at this evidence of
distress and might have withdrawn if she had not
straightened up and greeted me in a low voice.
was


106 The Mystery of the Red Flame
le
"I-I am sorry to have intruded on you at this
time," I began lamely.
She made a pathetic attempt to smile and dabbed
her eyes with a little lace handkerchief.
"Oh, it's all right," she said bravely, “but I'm
sorry you see us in such an unsettled condition.
I'm — I'm afraid you're not finding it very cheer-
ful at Hedgewater House.”
“I'm not thinking of that,” I declared resolutely,
“but wondering if I cannot be of some service to
you."
“You're awfully kind, but there is nothing you
can do — nothing.”
There was an awkward pause, but I had gone too
far to withdraw.
“Miss Wharton," I said slowly, and speaking
each word painfully, “I think I may be able to help
you if you will answer two questions.”
She looked at me in a startled way and rubbed
her hand across her tear-stained face.
"I—I don't think I quite understand you. You
say you want to question me?”
“Yes, may I?”
She looked positively scared now and glanced
around as if to find a means of escape. Then she
said as a child might say when it has been driven
into a corner:


More Mystery
107
“What is it you wish to know?”
cleared my throat with an effort and spoke as
calmly as possible.
“ Have you got the Red Diamond?”
A flash of terror crossed her face and showed
itself in her troubled eyes.
"No," she cried with sudden energy, “I have
not got it.”
“ Do you know where it is?".
There was a pause for a moment and then she
replied in wailing tones :
“I haven't the faintest idea where it is."
There was another pause, and before I could
think of what to say she had arisen from the piano
stool.
“I think,” she said with sudden energy, “ that
you are impertinent and I resent your questions."
The next moment she fled from the room. I
looked after her with a mixture of sorrow and sus-
picion.
I was sadly disappointed in Dora!
VO


CHAPTER X
THE THIRTEENTH TRUNK
TEN minutes after that interview with Dora I
received a message from Bromley Barnes saying that
he was at the Hedgewater Inn, where he wanted
to see me as soon as possible. He added that Hap-
good, one of his best men, would be at the entrance
to Hedgewater House to take any orders I desired
to give him, and to watch the house and its inmates
in my absence.
Responding to the call at once I met Hapgood at
the gate. He was a tall, thin fellow, dressed in
rusty black and with the lugubrious face of an
undertaker. He received my orders without the
slightest emotion and said that if any one left the
house he would make it his business to shadow that
person even if it were necessary to go to San Fran-
cisco and return. When I asked him what he was
going to do if more than one person left the house
he said that he would rely on his assistants, who
were within call.
108


The Thirteenth Trunk
109
en
On the way to Hedgewater Inn I tried to think
of how I was going to explain the disappearance of
the Red Diamond to Bromley Barnes. I had seen
it and the fact that I permitted it to slip away from
me was not very creditable either to my shrewdness
or ability. Yet I had literally followed the instruc-
tions given me by Barnes. Suppose I had taken it
from Colonel Wharton when he first drew it from
the safe? What would have happened? Could I
have escaped from the house alive? And if I had
tried to take the diamond and failed would not the
Government have been in a worse position than it
was at present?
Thus I whiled away the time as I plodded toward
Hedgewater Inn. At one time I had made up my
mind not to mention the incident wherein Dora had
seemed to take the diamond from the safe. But
mature reflection convinced me that without that
episode the story I was about to tell the veteran
investigator would be worse than useless. Also I
felt sure that its suppression so far as Barnes was
concerned would be a great injustice to the Gov-
ernment. She might be helped by the matter being
held in confidence for the present, and I would ask
Barnes to so hold the story.
But, alas, for human frailty, for when I reached
the door of the Inn all of my reasoning went to the


110 The Mystery of the Red Flame
four winds. I loved the girl and I could not ac-
cuse her of a crime. I felt that I must postpone
that revelation until the very last moment. I would
be faithful to the Government but I would not un-
necessarily expose Dora Wharton to shame. The
vital thing was to get the diamond, and I vowed that
I would not rest until I had recovered it.
Barnes greeted me in one of the private rooms
of the Inn and I told him of the incidents of the
night before — all except the episode of the girl at
the safe — and of how the diamond was missing in
the morning. He listened attentively from start to
finish but exhibited no surprise.
“My investigations satisfied me that the Red Dia-
mond was at Hedgewater House,” he said.
" But its disappearance?" I ventured.
“ That is not surprising - but we'll get it soon.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, and as I did so he
said:
“Now you've told me your experiences; I've got
a bit of news for you.”
My heart palpitated. I wondered if he knew
anything about Dora.
“We've got one of the conspirators behind lock
and key.”
“Who — who is it?” I stammered.
The veteran investigator pulled a corncob pipe


The Thirteenth Trunk
111
from his pocket, filled it with tobacco, lit it, and,
after taking two or three puffs, said contentedly:
“Well, it's a long story and if you'll be patient
I'll try and tell you.”
I was on edge with excitement but this calm per-
son disregarded my agitation. He did not look
like a detective and he did not act like one. Seen
for the first time he would be pointed out as a pros-
perous business man or a banker or broker. In his
hours of leisure he hunted for first editions of
American humorists and his great ambition was to
complete that collection. On duty he was as shrewd
as a fox and as persevering as a bill collector. At
present I knew that he was gathering up the scat-
tered ends of the Red Diamond case, and the pro-
voking slowness of telling his tale was his method
of relaxing from the strain of the chase.
“You know, Hugh,” he said after a few more
enjoyable puffs on the corncob pipe," the solution
of the manner in which that diamond was smuggled
into this port has caused me to lose two nights'
sleep, but I take my hat off to the smuggler —
name still unknown — because he has proven that
there is something new under the Customs sun."
“He was original, then?” I queried.
“ You bet. His plan was not only new to me,
but it was simplicity itself. I thought I knew every


112
The Mystery of the Red Flame
imaginable way in which a diamond could be smug-
gled, and when I say a diamond I mean a diamond in
a setting, one that is bulky enough to make it appar-
ent to any well-trained inspector. I've known
clever smugglers to cut a hole out of the inside of
the pages of a book and bring precious stones in
that way; I've known 'em to bake them in the mid-
dle of a cake; I've known 'em to put 'em in a
woman's back hair and in the hollow heel of a boot,
but this fellow — whoever he is — has gone them
all one better by doing the obvious thing; and the
obvious thing, as you well know, is the thing we
usually overlook.”
“Yes,” I concurred patiently.
“Well, I got the passenger list of the Dom Pedro
after we'd sent you up here and I went over the list
of names until I knew them by heart. I sent for
the inspectors who examined the trunks and I cross-
questioned them about their work. I adopted the
system of elimination. One by one they were all
set aside until they were all accounted for —”
“ All?" I interrupted.
“ All,” he continued gravely, “ except the Span-
ish Ambassador.”
“But, surely,” I exclaimed, “ you don't suspect
the Spanish Ambassador —”
He raised his hand in protest.


The Thirteenth Trunk
113
monk.
.
“Not so quick. I can relieve you by saying that
we do not suspect the distinguished gentleman who
represents the Spanish Government. There will be
no international complications."
I laughed.
“I suppose not, but in any event the customs of-
ficials here were helpless in the matter. When the
Secretary of the Treasury sent word to the Col-
lector to extend the courtesies of the port to the
Spanish Ambassador and the members of his staff
that meant that his trunks were to be passed with-
out examination.”
“Precisely, and they were passed without exam-
ination.”
I was puzzled.
“ Was the diamond in one of the Ambassador's
trunks?”
“ It was not."
A new thought came to my mind.
"Perhaps the fact that he came to this country
by way of Brazil —”
"No," interrupted Barnes. “There was no sig- .'
nificance in that, although it did make it possible
for the rascals to carry out their scheme."
I was becoming impatient at the provoking slow-
ness of the old man. I threw my hands up im-
pulsively.


114 The Mystery of the Red Flame
"Well, I'm not going to guess any more," I
cried. “My dear friend, will you kindly tell me
just what they did?”
He smiled in his benevolent, fatherly way.
“I'm trying to do that,” he said, “ if you'll only
stop interrupting me.”
I promised to keep as quiet as a church mouse.
“My mind kept going back to the Ambassador's
baggage," resumed Barnes, “and I finally went to
the surveyor and got transcripts of the returns from
the Dom Pedro. The slips show that there were
twelve trunks. I got the inspector who had as-
sisted me that day and he remembered that they
were red leather trunks with brass trimmings and
each one of them had the coat-of-arms of Spain
on the side.
“After that I looked up the dock superintendent
and asked him if he remembered the royal trunks.
He said he did, that he had given them particular
attention because of the royal coat-of-arms. My
talk with him brought out a surprising bit of in-
formation. He said that he stood there while the
thirteen trunks were loaded on an express wagon.”
“Where did the thirteenth trunk come from?”
“ You see, my young friend, I had stumbled on
a most important clew. The official returns showed
that the Spanish Ambassador and his official staff


The Thirteenth Trunk
115
nes.
UIO
had twelve trunks while this man was willing to
swear that thirteen trunks left the wharf. Do you
begin to see?"
“If you will permit me to change the metaphor,"
I grinned, “I begin to smell a rat.”
“Well, rat or smuggler, it was all the same to
me," commented Barnes. “I had a most prom-
ising clew and I ran it out."
“ With what result?”
“My first business was to find the driver of the
wagon who delivered the trunks. That was not as
easy as it seemed. Usually most of the baggage
from the wharf is taken away by the bonded dray-
man who has a contract with the Government. But
in this instance it was a private expressman who
happened to be on hand when the Dom Pedro ar-
rived. I located him after a twelve-hour search
and he admitted that he had hauled the trunks."
" But, one minute," I broke in. “You say that
these trunks all had the coat-of-arms on their sides.
If that is true how could an ordinary plebeian trunk
get into their company without being noticed ?”.
“I'm glad you spoke of that,” commented the
veteran investigator, “because it has a most im-
portant bearing on the case. The thirteenth trunk
was identical with the other twelve in size and ap-
pearance, even down to the detail of the coat-of-


116 The Mystery of the Red Flame
arms. That shows the immense cleverness of the
rogues. They found that the Ambassador was sail-
ing from Rio Janeiro to this port and they discov-
ered the character of his baggage. It was then
that the thirteenth trunk was made for this special
purpose."
“Do you suppose that it was placed with the
Ambassador's baggage when he sailed?”
“Not at all; that would have given the scheme
away. It was kept hidden until the Dom Pedro
docked at this side."
“Even then," I suggested, “ it could not have
been done except with the connivance of some one
on the boat.”
“ Boy,” said Bromley Barnes, beaming on me,
“ you're positively brilliant this morning. It may
please you to know that your supposition hits the
nail precisely on the head.”
I nodded.
“ You were saying,” I prompted, “that you
found the expressman who carted the trunks from
the wharf.”
“Yes, and he said that when he was about a half
block from the wharf one of the officers of the
Dom Pedro came running after him and told him
that he was to leave the thirteenth trunk at a house
on Clark Street. He obeyed the order, of course,



“I JUMPED TO MY FEET IN MY EXCITEMENT”





The Thirteenth Trunk
117
and left the trunk at the address indicated. That
trunk contained the Red Diamond!”
There was an impressive silence, after which I
asked Barnes if he had gone to the Clark Street
house.
"I did,” he answered, “and found that my bird
had flown. It is an ordinary rooming-house, and
the bit of baggage was delivered to a Mr. Marshall
who had rented the room the week before and who
left immediately after the trunk was delivered. It
goes without saying that the name was an assumed
one. I tried to get a description of the strange
lodger and the best I could learn was that he was
a smooth-faced man and wore a light gray suit.”
I jumped to my feet in my excitement.
“A man answering that description," I cried,
“has been lurking about Hedgewater House ever
since I came here."
" Quite likely,” agreed the old man, “but let me
finish my story. The next thing I did was to take
the expressman down to the Dom Pedro. I ex-
plained the business to the captain and asked him to
line up all of the ship's company. He did so, and
my expressman promptly walked over to John John-
son, the steward of the ship, and said that he was
the man who told him to deliver the trunk to the
Clark Street address. Johnson couldn't deny the


118 The Mystery of the Red Flame
soft impeachment, but he tried to explain it away
by saying that he was acting under instructions
from some member of the Spanish Embassy. I
wanted to know which member it was and he
couldn't tell me. His story was so palpably false
that I took him into custody and he is now in prison,
awaiting a hearing before the United States Com-
missioner."
" But what is the charge against him — that is
what legal charge can you make?”
"I dunno," was the cheerful response. “I've
just taken a chance in the hope of digging up some-
thing definite before he is given a formal hearing.
I'm satisfied that he is a crook, but I've got to
prove it.”
“This is interesting,” I commented.
“ You bet it is. Now I've got to leave you. I
wanted to get your story at first hand and I've told
you mine, because it may help you in your future op-
erations. I'm going back to town to round up the
dealers in diamonds and precious stones. And, in
the meantime, I'll keep you posted of anything
which occurs."
"But this Johnson; haven't you tried to get him
to confess?”
“ Tried !" cried the old man with a snort of dis-
gust. “If there is anything we haven't tried it is


The Thirteenth Trunk
119
because it is unknown to the police of this or any
other country. We've given him the third degree
in about thirty-three different forms and all he does
is to look at us and say nothing. He won't talk,
and that's all there is about it."
“But you're going to hold him as long as the
law allows?”
“ Longer — something may turn up at any mo-
ment to loosen his tongue.”
“You — you want me to stay at Hedgewater
House?” I ventured.
“ Want you!” he cried. “Why, man alive,
you've got to stay there!”
By this time he was on his feet and preparing to
leave the Inn. We separated at the door. He
went in the direction of the station while I headed
for Hedgewater House. He waved his hand at
me and gave me a parting shot.
“ Hugh!” he cried.
“Well,” I answered.
“If you don't bring the bacon you needn't come
home,” were his final words.
I thought that over as I trudged toward the house
of mystery. I was truly in a dilemma. If I failed
to recover the diamond my prestige at the Custom
House would be lost. If I did it might involve
Dora Wharton in serious trouble.


120 The Mystery of the Red Flame
How would it all end?
My mind reverted to the silent steward in the
station house. He was the Sphinx whose lips I
was expected to unlock. Could I do it? How was
it to be done?
One thing was clear. If there was a conspiracy
in the smuggling of the Red Diamond, this man
Johnson was the first, if not the most important,
link in the chain.
as a


CHAPTER XI
VICTOR JAYNE SPEAKS
WHEN I returned, Hedgewater House lay bask-
ing in the splendor of the morning's sun. The at-
mosphere of mystery which had surrounded it
seemed to have been dispelled with the mists of the
night. The casual traveler passing that way would
surely have envied the occupants of such a beautiful
home. It presented all of the outward appearance
of happiness and prosperity. But what a difference
within! Doubt, misunderstanding, fear and sus-
pense gripped the hearts of more than one of the
inmates.
What a satire it presented upon the futility of
mere riches! The poor man with contentment in
his heart was far wealthier than any of those who
lodged beneath the stately coverings of Hedgewater
House. The devil of uncertainty hung over them
all. Consider the horror of waiting for each suc-
ceeding hour and each succeeding day with the
fear that it will bring with it the sword of disaster!
When I reached the gate Harry Hapgood was
121


122 The Mystery of the Red Flame
sitting in the sun, sucking a straw with true rural
contentment. He arose, saluted me in military
fashion, and reported that a stranger had called
during my absence. This person had asked to see
Victor Jayne and being denied that privilege had
departed in great indignation. He was an under-
sized person, decently but not fashionably dressed
in a gray suit."
“Did you follow him?" I asked.
Mr. Hapgood shook his head mournfully.
“I did not — my job was to stay here until you
returned.”
“ Yes, yes," I cried, " but it was necessary that
he should be shadowed.”
Mr. Hapgood looked at me reproachfully.
“My dear sir," he said, “I know my business.
He was followed.”
“By -"
“Yes, sir, by one of the most trusted men in the
Department. It was my business to stay here until
you returned. You have returned — hence I de-
part.”
He walked away with all of the solemnity of a
pall bearer and left me to my meditations. They
were not pleasant. I felt about as cheerful as a
man sitting on the lid of a volcano. It was time
for me to be about my business, or, rather, the busi-


Victor Jayne Speaks
123
ness of Colonel Wharton, arranging his collection.
Before going into the museum I glanced into the
living-room. Mrs. Crilly, who was sitting there in
solitary state, saw me and called to me. There was
a curious look on the face of the little lady that
puzzled me and set me guessing. She pointed an
aristocratic finger at a chair opposite her.
“Sit down,” she commanded.
I did so. It would have been almost impossible
to disregard that imperative manner. Aunt Sarah
was usually the most composed of women, but at
this moment she appeared flustered. The freshness
about her face seemed more pronounced than ever
and her shrewd, kindly eyes were sparkling. She
pressed the folds of her dress and said, as though
she were talking to herself:
“ You seem almost like one of the family."
I bowed.
“ I'm fairly bursting to take some one into my
confidence,” she went on with vivacity, “and you
must be the victim.”
" Complimented, I'm sure," I said.
“Well, it's happened at last!” she exclaimed,
shaking her head with decision.
“ What?” I asked blankly.
“ Victor's proposed to Dora!”
I drew back as though I had been smacked in the


124 The Mystery of the Red Flame
face. And as the significance of the words dawned
upon me my heart became like lead. Aunt Sarah,
with her snow-white hair parted in the middle and
her benevolent face, did not suggest lack of feeling,
but she had dealt me a cruel blow.
“ Yes,” she went on," he has asked her to be his
wife, and — and she has not declined."
“ You mean she has accepted?” I asked, bitterly.
“No, she has not. She has asked for time and
he has reluctantly consented. Colonel Wharton fa-
vors the match and as it is most desirable in every
way I suppose that Dora will eventually give her
consent. Victor Jayne is a fine young man and he
will make a good husband."
“Why do you tell me all of this?” I asked with
rising irritation.
“Because I like you."
I laughed joylessly.
“So, liking me, you torture me?"
Her fine old eyes blinked at this, but reaching
over she took me by the hand.
“My boy, I am advancing in years but I am not
blind. I notice that you are growing fonder of
Dora every day you are here. Now you have one
of two things to do. You must crush this passion
or you must leave this house. Dora is not for you.
She is intended for Victor Jayne. It is her uncle's


Victor Jayne Speaks
125
wish and it is my wish. I don't blame you for lov-
ing Dora. I love her myself. But it is hopeless
so far as you are concerned, and I feel that I am
doing you a real kindness by telling you the truth
at once. Dora won't do it and my brother is too
blind and too much taken up with other worries
to see what is going on beneath his nose. Hence
the ungrateful task falls on me."
“Has Dora asked you to say this?”
"No," admitted Aunt Sarah, “she has no in-
timation of what I was going to say to you."
“So," I cried bitterly, “ you are going to com-
pel her to marry this man whether she wishes it or
not.”
The old lady's smile disappeared.
“There's no compulsion — please do not forget
yourself.”
“But what do you know about Jayne — how do
you know that he is all that he claims to be?”.
She arose with a haughty gesture and left the
room. At the door she paused for a final shot.
“We know as much of him as we do of you!”
I realized in a moment that I had given offense.
I had offended a friend and turned her into a pos-
sible enemy. But I was so upset by the news that
she had given me that I did not fully realize what
I was doing or saying. It was precisely the thing


126 The Mystery of the Red Flame
that I should have expected and yet when the blow
fell it found me utterly unprepared. The hints that
had been thrown out should have been sufficient.
And my eyes and ears should have taught me some-
thing. But they didn't. It was the old, old story
over again.
I threw myself into the folds of a high back chair
and buried my head in my hands. What should I
do? What could I do? I felt perfectly satisfied
that she would never be happy with a man like
Victor Jayne. And this feeling on my part was
not entirely selfish, because I had an ingrained
prejudice against the fellow and a suspicion that
there was something wrong about him. While I
was sitting there I heard some one come in the room
and I realized that Dora Wharton and Victor Jayne
were within a few feet of me. My impulse was to
jump up and leave the room, but I hesitated — and
in that moment of hesitation was lost. They were
talking in subdued tones and after the first few
words were spoken I was helpless to leave the room.
God knows I did not intend to be an eavesdropper,
but I could not help myself.
“Dora," he was saying softly, "you have it in
your power to make me happy by saying 'yes.'”
She was silent
“Why postpone the matter any longer,” he per-


Victor Jayne Speaks
127
sisted. “If you consent now it will not only be a
joy to me but it will be a great pleasure to your
uncle."
When she replied it seemed to me that there was
just a trace of weariness in her tone.
“I thought,” she said, “ that we had gone all
over that this morning, Victor."
The sound of his Christian name coming from
her lips sent a pang of regret through my heart.
It seemed, in a way, to give countenance to a suit,
which I felt was impertinent.
“I know," he begged, “ but you leave me in sus-
pense and I can't bear it. I adore you. I don't
ask you to feel that way toward me. I'm sure you
care for me, and that is all I ask. Once we are
married I will devote myself heart and soul to win-
ning your affection.”
I admitted to myself, grudgingly enough, that he
was an ardent wooer. I had not thought it was in
him.
“ Please, Victor," she was saying, “ do not press
me any more at present.”
They walked away and I remained in my place
until the subdued sound of their voices passed away
in the distance. Imagine my feelings at being the
involuntary hearer of those confidences! It is true
that Jayne did not appear to make much progress


128
The Mystery of the Red Flame
with his suit, but I was fearful of the consequences.
She was in a dangerous frame of mind. Sorely
beset on all sides and her mind perplexed, she was
in the mood for anything. His persistence, which
under ordinary circumstances would have gone for
naught, might yet win the day. Besides, the tone .
of implied respect in her voice almost goaded me to
desperation.
I do not know how I got through the day. On
the one hand was the mystery of the Red Diamond,
which might eventually wreck the family, and on
the other was my love for Dora, which had already
distracted me beyond endurance. The two things
were so intertwined that it seemed each must rise
or fall with the other.
Twice during the day Doctor Henderson came
over to urge Colonel Wharton to put the diamond
mystery in the hands of “a good detective,” as he
phrased it, and each time he irritated the Colonel
in the most unaccountable manner. Jules Jacquette
and Victor Jayne were quite as much agitated over
the disappearance of the diamond as any one in the
house. At one time I found Colonel Wharton and
the Brazilian together in the living-room and on
that occasion Jacquette was talking to him in a tone
that a guest rarely assumes toward his host.
For my part I was eager for action and yet


Victor Jayne Speaks
129
pinned down by the necessities of the case. Like
Bromley Barnes, I felt that something would occur
to start me on the solution of the mystery. My
mind constantly recurred to that night when Dora
crept along the side of the living-room with a candle
in her hand and terror in her eyes. Perhaps any
one else in my place would have arrested her on
sight. I don't know. All that I do know is that I
shut my eyes to evidence that was as clear as the
noonday sun and persisted in believing that she was
a victim of cruel circumstances.
On the night of the day when Jayne made his
formal proposal of marriage to Dora I had the
sweet pleasure of being in her company for nearly
an hour. It was a blissful hour to me, especially
as I had a premonition that it would be the last op-
portunity I should have of enjoying her society for
a long time.
We were in the living-room, as was customary
after dinner. Jules Jacquette asked Colonel
Wharton and Victor Jayne if they would join him
in his room. This left me alone with Aunt Sarah
and Dora. The poor girl looked distressed as she
had looked for the preceding twenty-four hours,
but the extreme terror had left her and she seemed
more composed. We had lamp light, as usual, and
at my request she went to the piano and played one


130
The Mystery of the Red Flame
of those rhapsodies of which I am fond and which
to me represent the tumult that goes on in the hu-
man soul more accurately than any composition of
which I am aware.
I had not the faintest idea what purpose Jac-
quette had in taking Colonel Wharton to his room
but their absence chimed in with my feelings.
Aunt Sarah was with us, but presently the dear old
soul began to nod and in a little while was sleeping
with a satisfaction that was attested by alternate
grunts and snores.
Dora was at her best and played with unre-
strained power. The thunder of the tempest as it
roared across the ocean main could be heard; then
the lull followed by the whistling of the wind, sud-
den outbursts, deafening windstorms and finally
quiet — the quiet that brings peace, tranquillity and
happiness in its wake. It was wonderful, this
playing in the lamp-lit room with me standing there
gazing into the liquid depths of Dora Wharton's
black eyes. The quizzical look was absent from
those eyes and the smile no longer hovered about
her lips, but there was a something in her eager
glances that filled my soul with hope. I forgot all
about the Red Diamond. I thought only of her
and the privilege of standing by her side.
She reached over for some music and in doing


Victor Jayne Speaks 131
so touched my hand. The contact was like an elec-
tric current and set my nerves tingling. I could
have sworn that the color came to her cheeks and
that her eyes took on a softer look. She paused
for a moment and her head sank on her breast, and
when I looked down I saw unbidden tears in her
eyes.
“ Dora!” I exclaimed involuntarily, “what is
the matter?”
She brushed the tears away hastily and smiled
wanly.
“It's nothing,” she declared hastily. “I'm tired
and overwrought.”
She rose from the piano stool as she spoke and
stood there with one hand on the instrument. Un-
consciously I placed my arm about her, protect-
ingly. It was the last straw. Her head sank on
my shoulder and she sobbed:
“ Hugh! Hugh!”..
My brain was in a tumult, my heart beat furi-
ously and I feverishly caressed her silken hair.
There was a rustling sound from the rear and Aunt
Sarah awoke.
“ Bless my soul!” she cried, peering through the
semi-gloom, “I believe I've been asleep.”
Dora hurried over and planted an impulsive kiss
on her forehead.


CHAPTER XII
A SURPRISE FROM BRAZIL
еу
THE librettist sings that when love is young all
the world seems gay. When I arose next morning
I felt as though I was walking on air. Evidently I
had never before experienced the real joy of life.
The grounds about Hedgewater House never ap
peared so alluring as they did that morning. I
strolled in the direction of the summer house and
standing on that elevation had a fine view of the
Harmony River sparkling in the morning sunlight.
It was delightful to sit there and think of Dora
and bliss. Presently a cloud passed across the sky
and temporarily obscured the brightness of the sun.
It was a reminder that my joy might be short-lived.
It recalled me to a sense of my duty. It brought
forth a query sharp and insistent:
Why was I at Hedgewater House ?
The answer put a damper on my happiness. To
win the affection and the love of Dora Wharton
was one thing; to hold it amid these perplexing cir-
cumstances, quite another. Suppose she were un-
133


134
The Mystery of the Red Flame
strange conduct! What then? I thrust the ques-
tion from my mind. It would be sufficient to meet
that emergency when it arose. I strolled in the
direction of the house. No one was about and I
was wondering how I would amuse myself until
breakfast time when I noticed the morning paper
lying on the porch where it had been thrown by the
carrier. I picked it up in a casual way and began
to scan the headlines carelessly. The first item of
news that caught my eyes caused me to jump with
surprise and amazement. They said “Star of the
South Stolen.” It was a special cablegram from
Rio Janeiro and it told of how thieves had entered
the National Museum in that city and stolen what
was regarded as the most valuable diamond in the
world. The robbery had occurred on the second
of October, and I remembered quite distinctly that
the Dom Pedro had left Rio on the morning of Oc-
tober the third, so it was quite probable that the
stolen diamond was the one that had been brought
over on that ship and hidden in the thirteenth trunk
which had been so cleverly added to the baggage
of the Spanish Ambassador.
The story from the capital of Brazil was a col-
umn in length and it gave all of the details of the
robbery so far as they were known. It told of the


A Surprise from Brazil
135
care that had been taken to protect the Red Dia-
mond, how it had been kept in a glass case in a
special alcove and how a watchman was kept on
guard at the museum day and night, summer and
winter. It seemed that on the night in question
the watchman had been chloroformed and while he
was unconscious the thieves had secured the keys
of the alcove and had opened the glass case which
held the treasure and escaped with the famous
diamond, leaving a cheap substitute in its place.
That was more than three weeks before. Why
was the news so late? The answer was simple
enough. It had been suppressed. The Director
of the Museum was distracted when he arrived
the morning after the robbery and discovered the
substitute. He knew he would be severely con-
demned not only by the managers of the museum
but by the people of Brazil, who looked upon the
Star of the South as one of the most treasured pos-
sessions of the nation. Had it not been dug out
of the mines of Brazil? And when it was cut into
two perfect diamonds had not one of the specimens
been placed in the museum to be the heritage of the
people forever? He felt only too truly that the
loss of the stone would be regarded as a national
scandal.
Hence every effort was made to recover the dia-


136 The Mystery of the Red Flame
mond without permitting the fact of its loss to be-
come public. The secret police were put on the
case and every nook and corner of the republic was
ransacked in the endeavor to recover the stone.
Every pawn shop had been visited and every sus-
picious character put upon the rack. But all in
vain. It was not to be found anywhere. The re-
ports of the police were carefully scanned by the
government officials and after much deliberation
they came to the conclusion that the Star of the
South had been carried to the United States of
America. Then, and then only, the story of the
disappearance of the diamond was made known to
the world.
The narrative, crisply told, and with every para-
graph teeming with human interest, left me gasping
for breath. This amazing revelation had to do di-
rectly with the adventure in which I was embarked.
We were not mistaken at the outset. The Red
Diamond had come to America on the Dom Pedro.
But instead of being that portion of the original
stone which belonged to an individual in Brazil
it was the diamond which belonged to the Brazilian
Government.
This added enormously to the importance of the
case. That which concerned an individual had,
. after all, a limited interest. That which concerned


A Surprise from Brazil 137
a government might easily lead to international
complications.
I thought of this new phase of the case as it af-
fected Colonel Wharton and the members of his
household, and as I did so the force and the im-
portance of the story in the Morning Chronicle
burst upon my dazed intelligence.
If this story were true, and I did not doubt it in
the least, it meant that the Red Diamond had been
stolen as well as smuggled. It placed Colonel Basil
Wharton in the position of being a thief and a
smuggler!
As the full force of this became evident to me I
sat down in an endeavor to recover my self-pos-
session. I was not the only person who knew that
the Red Diamond had been in the safe of Colonel
Wharton and each of these persons would be aware
that the Colonel was amenable to the criminal laws
of both Brazil and the United States of America.
What a position for a reputable citizen who had
served his country in its hour of need!
It seemed to me that the time had arrived for a
plain face-to-face talk with Colonel Wharton. And
yet it would not do to take any drastic measures
until I had the opportunity of communicating with
Bromley Barnes, or of hearing from him. I got
up from my seat and took a turn about the garden


138 The Mystery of the Red Flame
in an endeavor to get my thinking faculties in or-
der. It was quite clear that what had been an
ordinary smuggling case has now become an inter-
national theft which might end by involving the
American Government. While these thoughts were
running through my mind Colonel Wharton came
out of the museum and walked in the direction of
his house.
My impulse was to call to him, but I refrained
because I was not quite clear as to my future course
- of conduct. I looked on the man with a mixture
of pity and curiosity. He seemed to have aged in
the few days that I had been at Hedgewater House,
and when I recalled the series of incidents which
had occurred in that time I was not surprised. He
appeared thinner, and the slight stoop was more
pronounced than ever. His look was careworn and
he was deep in thought.
As he reached the porch he picked up the copy
of the Morning Chronicle which I had left there.
He appeared to be skimming over the headlines with
the air of a man who is not deeply interested in the
news. I wondered if he would see the article con-
cerning the Red Diamond. The wonder should
have been if it were possible for him to miss it.
The thing stuck out on the first page with the per-
sistence and the prominence of a sore thumb. How


A Surprise from Brazil 139
would he take it? I did not have long to wait.
The newspaper slipped from his nerveless fingers
and fluttered to the floor. He clasped his hands
to his forehead and groaned :
"God help me!”
The next moment, and before I could reach him,
he crumpled up and sank to the floor like a heap
of old clothes. When I gained his side his eyes
were closed and he was gasping for breath. I
called lustily for help, and in the meantime chafed
his hands vigorously. But it was evident that he
was unconscious and needed medical attention.
In a few moments the porch was filled. Dora
Wharton was the first to reach the scene and she
fell upon her knees by the side of the stricken man.
“Uncle,” she cried imploringly,“ don't you know
me? Please speak! This is Dora, your own
Dora!”
There was no response from those white lips
and the girl burst into tears. I longed to take her
in my arms and comfort her. Never had she
seemed so desolate. It was as if all she had in the
world was lost. She patted the unconscious man
on the hands, she smoothed his forehead and she
begged him to say but a single word.
It was heartrending, and in the midst of it I
gently touched her on the shoulder.
an


140 The Mystery of the Red Flame
" It's serious,” I said softly, “but I do not think
it's fatal. It seems like a stroke. But he needs
you more than any one else. Please compose your-
self for his sake.”
She glanced up and gave me a look of gratitude
from her tear-filled eyes. Then, with remarkable
fortitude, she pushed her grief aside and prepared
to render any assistance that was possible.
“ Thank you,” she said with a catch in her voice.
“ Tell me what I can do."
“ Send for Doctor Henderson at once. In the
meantime have some one help me to take him to his
room."
Jules Jacquette, Aunt Sarah, Victor Jayne and
Amy Smith, the maid, had arrived by this time and
they were all leaning over, filled with excitement
and wondering what could be done. The maid
looked terrified, but she had more presence of mind
than the others. She stooped over, loosened the
collar of the stricken one and pressed a small bot-
tle of smelling salts to his nostrils. Jacquette
proved himself equal to the emergency, too. He
grasped the Colonel by the shoulders and said to
me quietly:
“Now, if you take his feet I think we may be
able to get him to his room."
We did so in a few minutes. The master of


A Surprise from Brazil
141
as
was
Hedgewater House presented a pitiable sight as we
laid him on a couch in his handsomely furnished
bedroom. His aristocratic face was very pale, his
eyes were closed and he was still unconscious.
Aunt Sarah and Dora followed us into the room and
busied themselves in doing the numerous little
things which come so quickly and so naturally to
the intuition of capable women. The old lady con-
trolled her grief but it was evident that she was
suffering under a great strain. Dora never for a
moment took her eyes off the man on the couch
and moved about like a person in a trance. In the
midst of this came Doctor Henderson. His trained
eye seemed to take in everything at a glance.
“Now," he exclaimed briskly, “I'd like every-
body to leave the room except the two ladies. If
I need any of the others I'll call on them.”
We filed out of the room slowly and sorrow fully.
Jules Jacquette looked at me curiously and I knew
that he was thirsting to hear the details of this
unexpected attack. I did not say a word until we
got outside. He looked at me intently.
“Do you think it is — serious ?”
I shook my head.
“ I'm not a medical man — you'll have to ask
Doctor Henderson.”
If looks could have killed I would have been


142 The Mystery of the Red Flame
struck dead on the spot. It was the first open evi-
dence of hostility that he had shown toward me.
He cocked his big head on one side, and there
was just the faintest curl of his thick lip as he
said:
“Pardon me, señor, but you seem to know so
much that I thought your knowledge might extend
to medicine.”
I regretted my hasty reply. I was not yet ready
to make an enemy of Jules Jacquette. I tried to
speak in a conciliatory tone.
“No, I only claim to be a specialist on one or two
things.”
“On Red Diamonds, for instance," he suggested,
with an ugly leer.
“Yes,” I cried, accepting the challenge at once,
“ on Red Diamonds especially.”
He laughed in pretended glee and rubbed his big
hand across his closely-cropped head.
"I notice that the young señor is quick at what
you Americans call the retort courteous."
I said nothing in reply. By this time we were
out on the porch. He turned to me now with his
winning manner — and he had a winning manner
- and asked sympathetically:
“May I ask the cause of Colonel Wharton's sud-
den seizure?”


A Surprise from Brazil 143
I hesitated and looked squarely into his com-
pelling gray eyes.
“ Yes,” I said presently, “ it all came from look-
ing at the headlines of a newspaper."
He laughed — not so pleasantly.
“My young friend makes a jest of a grave sub-
ject.”
“Not at all," I replied, and reaching over I picked
up the Chronicle and handed it to him. “Here
you may see for yourself.”
As he straightened out the newspaper I watched
him narrowly. I was extremely anxious to see
what effect the startling news from Rio Janeiro
would have upon this man and I posted myself in
a position where I could see his face distinctly. He
took hold of the paper in his two big, greedy hands
and knitted his eyebrows as if trying to grasp the
words that stared him in the face.
The effect was startling in the extreme. His
hands shook as if he had the palsy, a wild look came
into his eyes and a grayish pallor slowly spread over
his countenance. Gradually these signs passed
away and he carefully read the article to the end.
He folded the paper slowly and turned to me:
“ This — this news,” he said, moistening his lips
with the end of his tongue, “is astonishing. I-
I wonder if it can be true?”


144 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“It has all the earmarks of truth,” I commented
drily.
“ But,” he said eagerly, as if to argue the point,
“ Colonel Wharton's diamond was supposed to be
the half of the Star of the South that belonged to
a private collection."
“How do you know?” I asked sharply.
“Why — why,” he stammered, “ Colonel Whar-
ton told us, didn't he?"
“I don't remember.”
“Why, surely,” he protested, “ that is the only
way in which I could have obtained the informa-
tion.”
At that point Victor Jayne came out of the house.
For some reason or other he had shown more ani-
mation during the last twenty-four hours. His lan-
guid manner seemed to have slipped from him like
a garment and now he was brisk and animated.
“What caused the trouble with Colonel Whar-
ton?” he asked, addressing Jacquette.
The Brazilian evidently had no wish to pursue
the subject.
“ It was a stroke, probably," he said.
“ Show him the paper,” I suggested.
The Brazilian looked as if he would like to hide
the newspaper from Jayne, but the young man
caught sight of it and reached over and took it


A Surprise from Brazil 145
without any ceremony. The effect of the headlines
upon him were more pronounced, if anything, than
they had been upon Jules Jacquette. His face
turned the color of chalk and his eyes protruded
from their sockets.
The agitation of these two men seemed signifi-
cant to me. It is true that they had seen the Red
Diamond on the night it was exhibited by Colonel
Wharton and they could realize the predicament in
which the cablegram placed him, but why should
they display such terror? Yet a few minutes later
when Dora and Aunt Sarah read the paper they
threatened to go into hysterics. And finally Amy
Smith, the maid, when she heard of the matter,
sobbed as if her heart would break.
· I am not superstitious, but the malign influence
of that stone began to get on my nerves. It seemed
to have a disquieting and demoralizing effect upon
every one that came into contact with it. While
all of this was going on I was mentally planning my
course of action. I resolved that I should first con-
sult with Doctor Henderson and then, with his per-
mission, ask Colonel Wharton point blank where
he had obtained the diamond. Upon his answer
would depend his own safety and the happiness of
Dora and myself.
But it was not long before I discovered that Jules
ver


146 The Mystery of the Red Flame
Jacquette was making an effort to see the sick man.
Twice he slipped up the stairway and tapped on the
bedroom door and twice he was angrily told by the
Doctor to go away and not bother him. I resolved,
then and there, to be the first man in the house to
see the Colonel, aside from Doctor Henderson.
Accordingly, I posted myself in a position in the
upper hallway where I could see the physician when
he left the sickroom. Presently the doorway
opened slightly and I hurried over and caught the
Doctor.
“I want to see Colonel Wharton," I whispered.
He frowned.
“What the devil's the matter with you people?”
he cried with some heat. “You all act as if you
had lost your senses.”
“Who — for instance?”
“Well, first Jacquette, then Jayne, and now you.
All clamoring to see a man who's really too sick to
see any one.”
“But I have a grave reason," I persisted.
He closed the door of the sickroom and came out
into the hallway.
“ You look as if there was something on your
mind,” he admitted. “What is it?"
In a few short, hurried sentences I repeated the
story in the Chronicle, and told him that Colonel


A Surprise from Brazil 147
om
Wharton's whole future depended upon his telling
where he got the diamond.
“I see your point,” he said slowly, “but I'm
afraid he's in no condition to help you or himself
at present.”
“ Couldn't I try him?” I persisted.
He gave an impatient shrug of the shoulders and
beckoned me to follow him into the room. Colonel
Wharton lay on his back in the great bed. He
looked ghastly and never moved his head when we
entered. I walked to one side of the bed and saw
that his eyes were open and that he was staring at
the ceiling.
“ Colonel,” I said softly.
He turned his head slightly and looked at me
without any emotion in his tired eyes.
"Colonel,” I continued, leaning over and speak-
ing with great intensity, “I want to know where
you got the Red Diamond.”
A startled look came into the weary eyes and his
lips began to move ever so little.
But no sound came from them!
Doctor Henderson plucked me by the sleeve and
motioned me to leave the room with him. After
the door had been closed and we had gained the
hallway I turned to him anxiously.
“ Can't he speak?”


148 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“ You saw for yourself,” he said curtly.
“Won't he ever be able to speak ?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders.
“That's a hard question to answer, but there's
no prospect at present. He has a most definite at-
tack of aphasia. At first I thought it was paralysis,
but a careful examination satisfies me that it is not.
So far as I can tell, the shock of the news you tell
me about has rendered him speechless.”
“Is there any hope that he will be able to
speak?”
He smiled sadly.
“ While there is life there is always hope.
Aphasia is sometimes permanent and sometimes
temporary. Another shock such as caused the
trouble may relieve it. All that we can do is to
wait.”
The others were waiting in the living-room and
when we reached there the doctor explained the
condition of the patient. All were disturbed at the
news except Jacquette. The Brazilian seemed to
experience a sense of relief, and a few minutes
later, when I went in the garden, I found him walk-
ing with his shoulders straightened out and hum-
ming a lively tune. He must have noticed the sur-
prise on my face, for he hastened to say:
“I am so glad that our dear friend is not fatally


A Surprise from Brazil
149
stricken. It is disturbing, of course, but I had
feared that it was paralysis, which is often fatal.”
He gesticulated with those expressive hands
while he spoke, and I know I detested the man.
Victor Jayne joined him presently and the two of
them strolled in the direction of the summer house,
talking earnestly and in low tones.
A few minutes later I met Doctor Henderson and
we talked of the Red Diamond and of the sad ef-
fect the Chronicle story had upon Colonel Whar-
ton.
“If he was only able to say a few words,” I la-
mented, “it would mean so much to all concerned.
If there was only some way of having him com-
municate with us —”
I stopped suddenly. An idea had flashed across
my brain. I looked at the physician wildly.
“Doctor," I cried, “ he can understand what is
said to him —"
“Why, yes,” he interrupted,“ but what of that?”
“I have it then!” I exclaimed jubilantly.
“How?”
“A slate and pencil,” was my response; “ that's
all we need.”
" By Jove," he retorted, “but you're right!
How is it that I didn't think of that? I'm becom-
ing stupid in my old age.”


150
The Mystery of the Red Flame
In less than five minutes we had secured the nec-
essary articles and returned to the sickroom. Doc-
tor Henderson leaned over and told the patient that
I was about to ask him a question concerning the
Red Diamond which it was important for him to
answer. He exhibited the slate and a gleam of
intelligence came into the eyes of the stricken man.
He was propped up in bed, the pencil placed in his
fingers and the slate placed before him.
“Now, Colonel," I said, “write the name of
the man who gave you the diamond."
He grasped the pencil firmly and in a moment
the pencil began to move. I held the slate in posi-
tion and we both leaned over and watched in
breathless silence. He wrote laboriously and in
scrawling lines. No better evidence could be given
of his dreadfully weakened condition. One word
at a time appeared before us. We looked and
read:
“ The Red Diamond was given to me by —”
And at that critical point the pencil slipped from
his nerveless fingers and he fell back on his pillow
exhausted and almost unconscious. Twice I re-
placed the pencil in his fingers and each time it
slipped away. Finally Doctor Henderson inter-
posed:
“We'll have to quit for the present,” he decided.


A Surprise from Brazil
151
“ I'm afraid of the effect of the exertion in his
present condition. It may kill him."
I left the room and slowly walked down stairs
deeply disappointed.


CHAPTER XIII
I AM DENOUNCED AS A SPY
BEFORE breakfast the next morning I had a long
distance telephone call from Bromley Barnes.
The veteran investigator desired to direct my at-
tention to the article in the Morning Chronicle.
When I told him I had read it he informed me that
the account was literally true and correct. His
object in calling me, he said, was to let me know
that the matter had been formally called to the at-
tention of the State Department by the Brazilian
Minister of Foreign Affairs.
“Washington is very much stirred up over the
business," continued Barnes, “and for that reason
we've got to go the limit to recover the diamond.
The Secretary of State has gone so far as to call
in the Secret Service. Now this case really belongs
to the Special Agents of the Treasury and we don't
want to fall down on our work and let the other
fellows come in and get the glory. Do you get
me?”
“Perfectly," I replied.
" I've got my end very well in hand," he said,
152


I am Denounced as a Spy 153
“ but I have a feeling that the climax is going to
come pretty soon and I want you to be on the job."
“ You may depend on me,” I answered, “and if
anything new develops I'll keep you posted.”
Doctor Henderson came to see Colonel Wharton
early that morning. He found him slightly im-
proved but still speechless, and gave orders that he
must be kept perfectly quiet. Excitement of any
kind, he said, would have a bad effect upon the
patient.
Before leaving, he took me aside and told me
that he had been making an investigation into the
affairs of Colonel Wharton and found them in a
very confused condition. He discovered that the
Colonel had paid out five thousand dollars in the
previous week and that when he was stricken he
had been negotiating for the sale of bonds which
would yield him something like a hundred thousand
dollars.
“Now I'd like to know what he intended to do
with such a large sum of money," he concluded.
“ It must have had something to do with the Red
Diamond," I ventured.
" By Jove,” he cried, slapping his knee with his
hand, “but I believe you're right. Yet think of
the amount of money. Why, it's a fortune - a
fortune for a diamond.”


154 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“ That's true," I admitted, “but you know that
when it came to rare gems Colonel Wharton was
obsessed."
“ You're right, Garland. On any other subject
Wharton was perfectly normal, but when it came
to his hobby he was utterly irresponsible. I hate
to be a busybody. I hate to poke my nose in other
people's affairs, but Aunt Sarah has begged me to
look after Wharton's affairs and that's my only ex-
cuse. It seems to me that he needs a friend now
more than he ever did in his life.”
“You have said it, sir,” I concurred. “ He's
helpless, and he certainly needs true blue friends at
this moment."
“Have you any idea what became of the five
thousand dollars ? "
“No— but I guess it's gone beyond recall.”.
“The important thing now is to keep your eye
on the hundred thousand.”
“I've attended to that, son,” he said. “I've got
in touch with Wharton's bankers and they have in-
structions to hold on to his bonds like grim death.
He might have signed over some papers for all we
know, but they won't be honored. Son,” he con-
cluded, with a sweeping gesture, “it's pretty bad
when you have to protect a man against him-
self."


I am Denounced as a Spy
155
When the Doctor left it was with the promise
that he would call that afternoon to see his patient.
"I may be a little late, but I want to see you
when I get here, young man. I've got a sort of
feeling that you're the only dependable man on the
premises."
I did not have the grace to blush at this praise,
and I wondered what Doctor Henderson would
think when he learned the real purpose of my in-
troduction into Hedgewater House.
Dora and Aunt Sarah undertook the task of
nursing Colonel Wharton, and faithful nurses they
were, too. There was not a moment when either
the one or the other was not at his bedside, watch-
ing him with solicitous care and anticipating his
every wish. There was a sort of pathos about
the business. His eyes followed them round the
room with a pleading look and when he attempted
to speak he was utterly helpless. His hands, too,
seemed palsied, and no attempt was made to re-
peat the experiment of the slate. I remained away
from him in response to instructions from Doctor
Henderson, who feared that the sight of me might
excite him and bring on another attack.
It was late that afternoon when Dora left the
sickroom for the purpose of taking a walk around
the garden. She had on a light blue dress and


156
The Mystery of the Red Flame
wore a cap and apron that gave her the appearance
of a professional nurse. The outfit was becoming
and she looked trim and natty in the costume. She
seemed more like herself than she had been at any
time since the illness of her uncle. I stood on the
step of the museum admiring her graceful move-
ments and debating whether I should join her. At
that moment Victor Jayne came out of the house
and to speak to her. It vexed me to think that I had
permitted him to get ahead of me. Presently they
started off together, walking in the direction of the
summer-house. I resolved to take another path
that would enable me to join them without seeming
to intrude.
Five minutes later I reached a turn in the shrub-
lined path which enabled me to see them without
being seen. Nothing had been farther from my
thoughts than to listen to their conversation. Dora
was speaking in a tired voice.
"If you don't mind, Mr. Jayne, I'll stay here for
a while.”
“But the answer to my question," he persisted.
“Won't you please say yes'?"
“If you insist," she retorted, "I shall say 'no.'”
“ You know your uncle's feelings in this matter,
Dora. Won't you consider him — and me?”
“ Please stop,” she pleaded, “no more to-day.”


I am Denounced as a Spy
157
He followed her, caught hold of her skirt, and
began again.
“Dora -"
I could not restrain myself any longer. I stepped
forward and exclaimed:
“Miss Wharton wishes to be let alone. Surely
any gentleman under the circumstances -”
“You here?” he interrupted, scowling at me
fiercely.
“ Yes," I answered, “I happened to overhear
what you were saying."
“Happened !” he cried. “You mean that you
were spying on us.”
I moved over in his direction with my fists
clenched and my face burning with rage. But one
look at Dora's white face caused me to abandon
my purpose. It would not do to have a scene.
“I was not spying,” I retorted, trying hard to
At this point in the encounter Jules Jacquette
strolled along in the most casual manner imagina-
ble. He seemed surprised, yet I was satisfied that
the shoulder.
“My young friend,” he said, " you must control
yourself. You young "fellows are so impetuous
when you are in love."


158
The Mystery of the Red Flame
I could have cheerfully strangled him on the spot.
His ill-timed reference to Dora seemed like sacri-
lege to me. While this was passing through my
mind I noticed him lean over and whisper some-
thing in the ear of his companion. Jayne's face
gave the faintest flicker of acquiescence, as if to
say that he understood his cue. He stroked his
stringy mustache and turned to me in an insolent
manner.
“Spying does not come very hard to you, does
it?"
I raised my arms to strike him, but it was Dora
who reached out and restrained me. The four of
us were standing in the graveled space in front of
the summer house. I shall never forget that scene
if I live to be a hundred. I faced him with blazing
eyes.
"I shall hold you to account at the proper time
and place!”
To my surprise he stepped forward with an as-
surance and a jauntiness I had never seen in him
before. He spoke in a loud voice and as he did so
he pointed his finger in my face.
"Mr. Garland — if that is your name - this
thing has gone far enough. I accuse you of being
a spy! You are an agent of the Treasury Depart-
ment and you came into this house for the purpose



666
"'I ACCUSE YOU OF BEING A SPY!'”


I am Denounced as a Spy 159
of trapping Colonel Wharton and Miss Wharton.
Only this morning you held a long distance con-
versation with your chief for the purpose of getting
further instructions. Under pretended friendship
you have been acting the part of a traitor. Your
insolent courtship of Miss Wharton has been for
one purpose and one purpose only — to get her to
make an admission that would convict her and her
uncle of defrauding the Government —”
“You lie!” I interrupted heatedly. “And you
know you lie!”
Jules Jacquette interposed with his oily manner.
“Victor,” he said with pretended fairness," you
have made a serious accusation against this gentle-
man. Surely you are mistaken.”
“I'm not mistaken," was the stubborn retort,
“and if you'd like to have some evidence I can
show you Treasury Department stationery which
I found in his room."
“Evidently,” I said, grasping at this straw," Mr.
Victor Jayne is something of a spy."
“I didn't spy on a woman," he retorted.
“ Neither did I.”
Dora Wharton stood there during this dialogue.
Her face was as white as marble and there was a
dangerous glint in her eyes. She strode forward
now, indignation depicted on her countenance.


I am Denounced as a Spy 161
“Don't touch me!” she exclaimed in a choking
voice. “You're too horrible to live!”
“But, Dora —"
“How dare you insult me by speaking my name?
Leave me at once. I can't breathe the same air
with you!”
She sped on toward the house, sobbing as she
went. I sank on a bench and buried my head in
my hands. This was the most crushing blow of all.
To cause her pain was exquisite torture to me. To
seem base in her sight was the greatest humiliation
to which I could ever be subject. The universe
toppled about me. My house of cards fell to the
ground. All hope of happiness seemed blotted
from my life. No one can ever imagine the weight
of woe which oppressed me at that moment. I do
not know how long I remained there with my sor-
row. When I looked up I saw Jacquette and Jayne
still standing near the summer-house and smiling at
me with sardonic glee. I pulled myself together
with an effort. Even in the blackness of my de-
spair I realized that I must not let these rascals
get the best of the situation. I strode over to
them:
“You miserable puppet!" I cried, shaking a
finger at Jayne. “ I'll attend to your case later.
I have other things to look after at present.”


162
The Mystery of the Red Flame
“ Your own case, for instance,” he sneered, pull-
ing at his stringy mustache.
“ Señor Garland is permitting his rage to get the
better of his good manners," purred Jacquette in
the oily tones I had grown to detest.
I disdained to speak to the Brazilian at that mo-
ment and made my way to the house. Dora was
in the living-room standing near the windows over-
looking the grounds. Her tear-stained eyes showed
that she had been weeping, but as I entered the
room she drew herself to her full height. I hesi-
tated and she turned her back to me.
“Miss Wharton,” I began in a low voice, “I—"
“I don't think there is anything more to be said,"
she interrupted.
“But surely you will grant me a hearing - even
a criminal is entitled to a hearing.” .
“ Being a detective,” she exclaimed disdainfully,
" you are probably better acquainted with the ethics
of criminals.”
“You are unkind," I said softly.
She turned on me like a flash.
“Unkind!” she exclaimed, the fire fairly dart-
ing from her luminous black eyes. “How dare
you use the word? How could you be so despic-
able as to enter this house under cover? How
could you attempt to win my confidence by a pre-


I am Denounced as a Spy
163
tended affection? I never imagined a man lived
that could descend to such a contemptible deceit.
And the hypocrisy of it makes your act all the more
loathsome.”
“But you won't let me say a word in my own
defense -—"
“What?" she cried incredulously. “Do you
want to keep up the farce after the mask has been
torn from your face?”.
I stiffened at this blow.
“In view of what you say there is nothing for
me to do but to leave Hedgewater House. I
merely wish to say that I promised Doctor Hen-
derson that I would remain until he came here this
evening."
She laughed mirthlessly.
“So you've fooled him, too? And you seem to
be very scrupulous about your promise. Well,
there's a train leaving Hedgewater at seven-twenty
to-morrow morning. If you have any shame left
take that train.”
I bowed.
" It shall be as you wish. Some day, perhaps,
you may think better of me."
I ascended the stairway to my room. As I looked
over the banister I saw her leaning against the
curtains, the tears streaming down her cheeks.


CHAPTER XIV
BEHIND THE SUMMER-HOUSE
ar-
The world had gone black for me. Never, since
embarking upon the curious enterprise, had I felt
so thoroughly depressed and disheartened as I did
after that interview with Dora Wharton. The ex-
pected had happened, but, alas! I found myself
unprepared for it. In the early part of this nar-
rative I accused myself of living in a fool's para-
dise. The truth of that accusation was now more
evident than ever. I was disgraced in the eyes of
Dora. What else mattered ?
But presently this black mood passed. My heart
was as heavy as lead, but I was determined to fight
the battle until the end. I could still see the tear-
stained face of the girl I loved, but beyond it I
caught the grinning, leering countenances of Jac-
quette and Jayne, and I made up my mind that they
should rue the day they brought unhappiness to the
heart of Dora Wharton. I might never succeed in
regaining her love and confidence, but I would
make them know they had been in a battle.
I did not go down to dinner at the usual hour.
184


Behind the Summer-House
165
wa
The thought of sitting at the table with Jacquette
and Jayne was intolerable. Dora and her aunt, I
was satisfied, would not be there. Truly a deso-
lated home, with these two rascals making them-
selves comfortable and in command of the situa-
tion. That last thought filled me with unavailing
rage. But were they in command of the situation?
Time alone would tell.
I busied myself in making out a report and in
the meantime kept on the watch for Doctor Hen-
derson. It was dusk when he finally arrived and,
after giving him time to visit his patient, I went
downstairs and stationed myself in the hallway
where I would be sure to meet him. He came out
presently, a look of gravity upon his round face.
“Doctor," I began, “ before we go any further
I'd better tell you something about myself. I—"
He cut me short.
“I know all about it,” he said. “There's no
need of going into details."
I looked at him in amazement.
“How in the world did you know?”
He smiled grimly at that.
“ The ladies told me. You don't suppose they
could keep a secret like that, do you? They came
to me to express their indignation."
I looked at him critically.
came


166
The Mystery of the Red Flame
on
“ An indignation, I presume, which you share
with them.”
He had edged into the living-room by this time
and he looked about to see if we were alone. Then
he looked at me through his gold-rimmed spec-
tacles.
“Well, son,” he said finally, “none of us like
to be fooled, do we?”
I admitted the impeachment.
“No, of course we don't. And, least of all,
women. They were very properly angry at you,
and I think that if I had been in the place of
Miss Dora I should have been tempted to have
scratched your face. As your amiable countenance
seems unblemished, I take it that she considerately
refrained from inflicting that deserved punish-
ment.”
"I thought you might have taken a different
view of it," I said, miserably enough. “I can as-
sure you that I would die sooner than do Miss
Wharton an intentional wrong.”
He caught me by both shoulders and pushing me
away at arm's length looked squarely at me with
those honest old eyes.
"Son,” he exclaimed finally, “ the biggest com-
pliment I can pay you is to say that I believe you."
“ Thank you,” I replied, a mist coming before


Behind the Summer-House 167
my eyes. “ It is perfectly true that I came to this
house as a representative of the Treasury Depart-
ment, for the purpose of getting on the track of
the Red Diamond. It is equally true that I came
here in the guise of an assistant to Colonel Whar-
ton. For that deception I will probably lose the
love of one who is most dear to me. But I merely
obeyed the orders of my superiors. I presented
myself under false pretenses. I'm not proud of
have qualms of conscience about it, but I want to
assure you, Doctor Henderson, that I have not
done a thing since I have been in this house which
would cause me one moment of shame."
“ There, there,” he cried, turning comforter. “I
didn't ask for any explanation. You've got an
honest face. That's enough for me. As for the
rest of it, I think your coming here at this time and
under existing circumstances may prove to be prov-
idential to Colonel Wharton and his niece."
I flushed with joy.
“ That's the very feeling I've had, Doctor, and
I wasn't conceited enough to put it in words. And
I propose to see this thing through. I'll leave here
in the morning — you know I've been ordered off
the premises — but my heart will remain here and
I will not neglect the interests of your friends."


168 The Mystery of the Red Flame
He clapped me on the shoulder.
“Spoken like a man. You may depend upon
my coöperation and,” smiling through his glasses,
“if it is necessary to prolong your stay here I
think I can get the consent of the mistress of the
house.”
“No, no!” I cried hastily. “That would never
do. Besides, I think that it will be desirable for
me to go to the city to-morrow.”
“ And leave Hedgewater House unguarded ?”
I smiled significantly.
" It will not be unguarded — and, besides, you
will be here part of the time.”
“ Bless my soul!” he cried. “I'll be here most
of the time if I'm needed. I'm getting on in years
and Dora is like a daughter to me. I'll sacrifice
anything for her sake.”
“So will I,” I said simply.
He laughed heartily at that and repeatedly
clapped me on the shoulder, which was his method
of showing that he was pleased with me.
“Oh, you young fellows," he cried, “how you
do talk the sentimental nonsense!”
He left with the understanding that he would
call in the morning and with a promise that he
would spend much of his time at Hedgewater
House until I returned.


Behind the Summer-House
169
“For you will return, son,” he said, giving me a
sly poke in the ribs. “I know, because I'm a stu-
dent of human nature.”
That interview relieved me immensely. It took
part of the weight of woe off my heart. After the
departure of the Doctor I went out into the grounds
and smoked a cigar. I made my way to the edge
of the river and gazed at its rippling waters with
deep feeling. It looked both romantic and tragic
in the moonlight and it filled me with fancies suited
to my state of mind.
For more than half an hour I remained by the
riverside, musing and recalling the events of the
previous days. It began to get chilly and I started
back to the house. The moon was obscured by
the clouds at that time and I had to carefully pick
my way. A few yards ahead I could see the corner
of the summer-house and at a distance the mansion
loomed up in the dark like the hull of some great
ship. Slowly I moved along, feeling my way like
a blind man.
Suddenly out of the blackness of the night I saw
a little red speck of fire. It appeared midway be-
tween the summer-house and the big dwelling. At
intervals it disappeared and then reappeared. The
cause of the seeming phenomenon came to me sud-
denly and made me chuckle. It was nothing more


170
The Mystery of the Red Flame
or less than the lighted end of a cigar, and, of
course, it was in some one's mouth. I was about
to call when I was arrested by the sound of con-
versation. And the next second I heard the name
of Dora Wharton mentioned.
It was quite evident, by this time, that the two
men were Jules Jacquette and Victor Jayne. They
were headed for the summer-house, and I remained
motionless until they entered. There was the
scraping of chairs and I knew that the Brazilian
was seating himself in that luxurious manner which
was characteristic of him.
“Ah,” he exclaimed, with a long-drawn sigh.
“It's a blessed relief to get out here where we can
neither be seen or heard."
The moon, emerging from its obscurity, sent a
flood of light across the grounds and I dropped
down on all fours for fear of being seen. It was
not a comfortable position, but it was directly in
the rear of the summer-house, and it enabled me to
hear without being seen. I had not the slightest
compunction about listening. The mere mention
of Dora Wharton's name was ample justification
to my mind. From the occasional Aickers of light
it was evident that Jacquette was puffing away at
one of the heavy black cigars which he always car-
ried with him. There was an impatient scraping


Behind the Summer-House
of one of the chairs and I heard the querulous voice
of Victor Jayne.
“What the devil did you bring me out to this
hole of a place for — to see you smoke your vile
cigars?"
There was a purring laugh and then the caressing
voice of the South American saying:
" Softly, softly, my dear Victor. Your im-
pulsive American ways jar me. This is not a hole
of a place. It presents a splendid view of your
magnificent country. And the cigar you call vile
is one of the finest imported brands.”
“Oh, get down to business!” exclaimed Jayne.
“Well," retorted the other, raising his voice
slightly, “one feature of the business is to warn
you that your devilish temper is liable to ruin
everything. Another is to tell you that you've got
to make haste. A sensible man in your place would
have had the girl by this time. You've got to make
her accept you — and do it right away or the game
is lost. The conditions could not be better. The
old fossil of a Wharton is helpless and the young
gamecock of a Treasury agent has been discredited.
She'll have no more time for him. So if you have
an ounce of cleverness in your thick skull you'll
bring the thing to a conclusion."
The reference to a thick skull did not seem to


172 The Mystery of the Red Flame
.
sulla
please Jayne and he answered in a surly fashion.
“Cut out the talk about my brains. You're sup-
posed to have all the talent in the combination.
But I want to ask you a question. How do you
know that Wharton may not recover and spoil the
whole business ?”
“There is not the slightest danger. I can give
you my personal assurance that he cannot possibly
recover his speech — that is intelligible speech -
within the next forty-eight hours.”
“What do you know about it?”
“Ah, my dear Victor, that is where the knowl-
edge of your despised Brazilian comes into play.
I studied medicine for four years and I made a
specialty of mental diseases. I did not get my
diploma, but I can assure you that I know more than
many practising physicians.”
“Has Wharton mental trouble?”
“Not yet — but who can tell what may happen?
At present he is suffering from what is known as
ataxic aphasia in which the function of articulation
is lost or perverted. There are two kinds of apha-
sia — amnesic aphasia and ataxic aphasia. In the
first the memory of words is lost or perverted,
and in the second — with which Wharton is now
afflicted — there is usually a total loss of speech.
This comes about by reason of lesion of the brain,


Behind the Summer-House
173
and often leads to insanity. Everything depends
upon the treatment. Henderson, who is looking
after Wharton, is an unusually able man. He un-
derstands the case thoroughly and if the improve-
ment continues he may have him talking within the
next three days."
“ Talking,” gasped Jayne, " then he may blab the
whole business! He may say things that "
“That we do not want him to say,” finished the
Brazilian. “Well, that sounds serious, but it is
not so serious as you would imagine. But even if
Wharton gets better he will not be able to pro-
nounce words distinctly for weeks. The best he
can do will be to make signs to indicate that he un-
derstands what is being said to him. After that
he may be able to pronounce words of one sylla-
ble.”
“Like a child learning to speak?”.
“ Yes, only much worse. It's a curious disease,
Victor, and most fascinating. I remember one
case in Brazil when a patient, an engine driver, on
being asked his trade could only answer by saying,
‘hish, hish, hish,' to indicate the sound made by an
engine in starting. But —”.
"Oh, blast your medical talk," growled Jayne.
“I didn't come out here to listen to a lecture."
“ Nevertheless you are getting it,” was the bland


Behind the Summer-House
175
as
a sitting posture. I was stiff from lying on the cold
ground and every bone in my body ached. It was
a great relief to get up, but just as I did so I heard
the two men coming back. Instantly I dropped
down again, out of sight.
“What did you leave there?" asked Jayne peev-
ishly.
“ It was my cigar case — I'm sure it is in here
somewhere."
I heard the noise of the big South American mov-
ing about and feeling for the missing article. He
leaned over and once he came so near to where I
was hiding that I could hear his heavy breathing.
Presently there was a scratching sound and I knew
that he was lighting a match. I crouched closer to
the ground; I held my breath for fear of being dis-
covered. I am as brave as the next man, but I did
not relish the idea of an encounter with these men
in that lonely place. The Brazilian and his con-
federate were desperate and there was no telling
what they might be tempted to do if they learned
that I had overheard their compromising conver-
sation. In a moment I heard the voice of Jac-
quette.
“Ah, my little beauty, there you are!”
The little beauty, of course, was his cigar case.
Evidently he had found it and put it in his pocket,
wa


176 The Mystery of the Red Flame
for they left the place for the second time. I could
hear the voice of the South American.
“Victor, you should be glad of one thing; that
bantam Garland has received his walking papers."
Jayne gave a sneering laugh.
“Oh, that fellow never bothered me — I wasn't
afraid of him.”
“Just the same you can thank me — Jules Jac-
quette - for discovering his identity and for stag-
ing the scene that caused his dismissal.”
I clenched my fist with rage. I might have
known the Brazilian was responsible for the most
unpleasant episode of my life; I might have known
that Victor Jayne had neither the invention nor the
cunning to contrive such a shrewd method of dis-
gracing me before the girl I loved.
This time the two rascals actually entered the
house and I was able to stand up and stretch.
Soon afterwards I entered the main doorway and
went directly to my room. I was in no mood to see
any one, and even if I had been, there was no one
to see. The master of Hedgewater House helpless;
Dora nursing her grief, and these two unprincipled
men having the run of the establishment.
I sat at my window for a long time staring out
at the cold waters of the Harmony River and trying
to think out a definite plan of action for the next
me


Behind the Summer-House 177
day. My mind worked slowly and I could not think
clearly. But one resolution framed itself quite
definitely. I would go to Dora Wharton the first
thing in the morning and warn her against Jules
Jacquette and Victor Jayne.
I might have my labor for my pains, but that
would not deter me from doing what I conceived
to be a plain duty.


I Quit the House of Mystery 179
would stand the test in a court of law. It is true
that I overheard him scheming with Jayne in the
effort to have Jayne marry Dora Wharton. But
if all the men who schemed to get rich wives were
arrested it would be necessary to enlarge the prisons
and penitentiaries.
While I dressed I looked out of the window in
the direction of the Harmony River. It was a
chilly morning and the difference in the weather
reflected itself in the Rhenish appearance of the
rippling waters. It was a beautiful view from that
upper bedroom window and I enjoyed it more than
once during my brief stay. As I gazed out now I
became sensible of something different in the out-
look. I looked again and the cause of it became
apparent. A small motor boat was tied up at the
wharf of the Wharton estate. That seemed
strange at such an early hour in the morning. As
I finished dressing I went closer to the window and
saw a man skulking about the summer-house. He
moved around, gazing on the ground and searching
in the grass. Who could it be? What did he
want? He acted like a person who had lost some-
thing. Once or twice he stood up so that I was
able to get a good look at him. Suddenly I made
a discovery. He was the man in the gray suit who
had been lurking about the house the day I ar-


180 The Mystery of the Red Flame
-- --
--
--
sum
rived and who had been seen on several occasions
after that.
It would be a big thing to capture him. He
could not be engaged in any legitimate enterprise.
Else why the sneaking about the premises? I re-
solved to go down and try to get him. At that
moment he happened to look up and he saw me at
the window. It filled him with a sort of panic, for
he took to his heels and ran like one possessed.
But the pocket of his coat caught in a nail in the
summer-house and halted his flight. I could see
the look of impatience on his face as he tore it away
and resumed his run toward the motor boat.
I hurried down, but it was too late. The man
and the motor boat were both gone and as I reached
the bank of the river the speedy craft was already
halfway across the stream. I managed to get a
good look at the man's face, however, and I felt
confident that I could pick it out of a thousand.
He had a smooth face, sharp features and little
ferret-like eyes. There was nothing more that I
could do at present, so I made my way back to the
house, disappointed, and wondering how the busi-
ness would end.
I was quite as firmly resolved as ever to see Dora
Wharton before leaving the house. At that early
hour I was the only one astir and I sat on a bench


I Quit the House of Mystery
181
in the garden and considered how and when I
should speak to her. I made up my mind that I
should not present myself in the breakfast-room.
That would not be agreeable to her and would place
me in the position of trying to force myself on her
company. While I was debating this matter Amy
Smith, the maid, appeared. She came to me rather
shyly, twisting the end of her apron in her nervous
fingers and scarcely lifting her eyes. From the
look of her face she had been weeping.
"If you please, sir," she said, with a half curt-
sey, “I've prepared some breakfast for you.
Would you like it now?”.
I was on my feet in an instant.
“ Nothing would suit me better, Amy," I replied,
“and I think you were very considerate to think
of me.”
She seemed overcome with embarrassment at
these words and hurried back to the house. None
of the other servants had arisen at this hour, so that
she not only prepared my breakfast, but served it as
well. All through the meal she exhibited evidences
of emotion which I attributed to her goodness of
heart over my departure. I felt flattered to think
that I had won the good will and confidence of a
servant of whose existence, heretofore, I had only
been vaguely conscious. Amy was not a beautiful


182 The Mystery of the Red Flame
girl. She was not even good-looking. She had
large features and pleading eyes like an animal that
begs for a little kindness. In the largeness of my
heart I wished to say a pleasant word to the girl.
I handed her a coin, and said casually:
“Well, Amy, I'm sorry to leave you."
She lifted the edge of her apron to her eyes and
wiped away a fugitive tear.
“Not half so much as I am to see you go, sir,”
she answered with a sniffle.
This was embarrassing. I hoped that Amy had
not been so foolish as to fall in love with me. She
soon disabused my mind.
" I'm scared at this house, sir. I don't know
which way to turn. Somethin' terrible is always
happenin'.”
I laughed in spite of myself. Yet the girl had
described the situation perfectly. Even those who
were more sophisticated than this domestic had felt
the haunting influence which she had described so
well in her homely manner. As I glanced up at her
I was struck by the look of terror in her eyes. It
was not assumed. It was genuine. I attributed it
to superstition. I was at a loss regarding what to
say to reassure her. But she relieved me of the
necessity.
“ There was a man here this morning,” she said,


I Quit the House of Mystery 183
speaking rapidly. “He came in a boat and he
crept all around the summer-house."
“Yes,” I said, waiting to hear more.
“ Yes, sir," she continued, “and he's the same
man that was a-creepin' around the hedge on the
night you came here."
I nodded. The girl's words confirmed my own
impressions.
“You're right, Amy. I caught sight of him
from the window, but when I got down he had
gone."
“ Yes, sir,” she said, bobbing her head and pick-
ing nervously at the end of her apron. She stood
there for a moment as if undecided what to say
next. I imagined that she wanted to tell me some-
thing more, but in a moment she turned on her heel
and fled from the room.
Her talk about the man in gray had set me think-
ing. When I left the breakfast-room I strolled out
into the garden and made my way in the direction
of the summer-house. There were footprints in
the soft earth, but they did not have any special
significance to me. I walked around the side of
the house and noticed a bit of cloth fluttering in the
wind. A closer examination proved that it was part
of a coat. It was not more than two inches in di-
ameter but to me it looked as big as the Flatiron


184
The Mystery of the Red Flame
Building. It was the piece of cloth that had been
torn from the coat of the man in gray when he
was rushing to get away in the motor boat!
It was important evidence and I placed it in my
wallet for future use.
It was becoming increasingly evident that the
next move in this game of blind-man's-buff would
have to be made in the city. I was eager to see
Bromley Barnes and to compare notes with him. I
felt more positive than ever that we were getting
“ warm,” as the children say, and that the most
trivial incident might lead to a solution of the vexa-
tious problem. I looked at my watch. The next
train for the city would leave in thirty minutes, but
before leaving the house I wanted to have a word
with Dora Wharton.
To my gratification I saw her going into the liv-
ing-room and I walked in that direction. As I
reached the doorway she was seating herself at the
piano. She opened a piece of music and began to
play it, but she had not finished more than three or
four bars when she stopped abruptly and buried
her face in her hands. Who can tell how much I
suffered as I stood there watching her distress ?
Presently she raised her head and began drumming
listlessly on the keys. Now I felt was my time —
now or never. Would she see me? Would she


I Quit the House of Mystery
185
speak to me? Well, the only thing to do was to
make the attempt. I walked into the room boldly
enough, but my heart was beating rapidly and I
know that my face was flushed.
“Miss Wharton,” I said in a voice that faltered
in spite of my resolution, “ will you favor me with
a word before I leave Hedgewater House? It may
be the last opportunity I may have of speaking to
you.”
She turned slowly on the piano stool and faced
me. I was prepared to see a change in her, but the
sight that met my gaze disturbed me more than I
like to admit, even at this late day. Her face was
as white as chalk and there were dark lines under
her eyes. That inquiring, quizzical expression
which had charmed me so much in the beginning
was gone now and in its place there was a look of
hopeless grief. It seemed impossible that any one
could have changed so much in twenty-four
hours.
“Well,” she said, and the dull despair in her
voice smote me to the heart.
“ There are two things I want to say," I began,
doing my best to speak steadily. “One concerns
myself and the other affects you. I want to make
you understand that I have not willfully deceived
you. It is true that I came here to get a clew to the


186 The Mystery of the Red Flame
Red Diamond, but I had no idea that you were
here and when I met you and — and — became ac-
quainted with you our relations had nothing what-
ever to do with the sordid business of the dia-
mond.”
“I suppose,” she said, in a wearied voice, “ that
I am expected to believe all of this."
“ You must," I exclaimed with spirit. “If I
gained your confidence — and your friendship — in
any way it was not for any ulterior motive. The
- the regard I had for you was for yourself alone.
You have inspired in me feelings —”.
“Please stop,” she pleaded.
“I will,” I continued, “ if you will say that you
accept my words. There is no penance that I am
not willing to do, no sacrifice that I am not willing
to make if you will only believe that I cared for
you and still care for you in a disinterested, honest
and manly fashion.”
“There is nothing I ask of you,” she replied, in
that cold impassive way, “except to leave me.”
I was conscious of flushing to the roots of my
hair. I could stand her anger and even her dis-
dain, but this dull despair, this cold indifference,
was almost more than I could bear. I bowed, how-
ever, and said:
“It shall be as you say — I am leaving now."


I Quit the House of Mystery
187
She turned, as if to resume her music. But I
was not finished.
“There is another thing, Miss — Miss Wharton.
I have tried to prove that I am disinterested. Be-
lieve me, I beg of you in this instance. I want to
warn you as a friend — misunderstood, perhaps,
but still a friend against Jules Jacquette and Vic-
tor Jayne. The first is a scheming rascal and the
other is pretending to care for you, but it is
only —”
She halted me with an angry gesture. She had
risen and her eyes were flashing fire. A touch of
color came into her cheeks, and I do not think she
ever looked more beautiful than she did at that mo-
ment.
“Sir,” she cried, in a rising voice,“ you are add-
ing insult to injury.”
“But,” I pleaded, “it is for —”
“I don't want to hear you,” she exclaimed, halt-
ing me for a second time. “I refuse to listen to
slanders against my uncle's guests and from —
from one who has been convicted of deceit.”
I was furiously angry now, and if I had followed
my impulses would have grabbed her and compelled
her to listen to my words. She hastened away, but
I called after her in a loud voice.
“If I have been convicted, it has been unjustly.


188
The Mystery of the Red Flame
You have not given me a chance to defend myself.
You shut your eyes and your ears to the truth.
But I propose to save you in spite of yourself.
I'm not going to ask your permission. I'm through
with protestations. From now on it's going to be
action. Your uncle, lying there helpless, seems to
be at the mercy of these rascals. But I'm going to
save him, and while I'm at it I propose to save you
from that designing coxcomb, Victor Jayne."
I was shaking with excitement when I finished,
but I was satisfied. I knew that she heard my
words and I was relieved in getting them out of my
system, as the saying goes.
Five minutes later I had my suitcase in hand and
was going down the graveled path toward the gate.
I could not help thinking of how I had come in that
same entrance only a short time before and the
chain of incidents that had occurred since that time
— incidents, startling in themselves and affecting
my future happiness.
Just as I was passing out, Amy Smith darted
from behind a hedge and with downcast eyes bade
me good-by. The devotion of the poor soul made
me feel good. It was pleasant to think that one
person, at least, in that place regretted my depar-
ture. I took her by the hand.
“Good-by, Amy, and good luck to you."


I Quit the House Se
of Mystery 189
“Good-by,” she said, putting the everlasting
apron to her eyes.
As I started away she called after me:
“Mr. Garland, you'll come back, won't you?”
“I don't know," I answered, “ that depends upon
circumstances.”
. “Oh,” she cried plaintively, “ I hope you do."
It seemed to me that she wanted to tell me some-
thing. Indeed, all of her actions that morning in-
dicated that she had something on her mind. But
she let me go without taking me into her confidence.
At a turn of the road on my way to the station I
looked back at the house and fancied that I saw
Dora Wharton peering from behind the white
shades of her room. What was she thinking ?
Did she care for me in spite of all that happened ?
Would we ever meet again? I dismissed these
queries with a sigh and kept on my way.
A little later I looked back again and this time I
saw the faces of Jules Jacquette and Victor Jayne
staring after me from the window of the room
occupied by the Brazilian. There was no doubt
about the way they felt. They were openly exult-
ant. They were rejoicing over having rid them-
selves of an annoying adversary. The big South
American was rubbing his expressive hands across
his closely-cropped hair, and I could imagine him


190
le
The Mystery of the Red Flame
telling his companion that from now on they would
have the field to themselves. Perhaps he was de-
picting me as a deserter and telling him that there
would be no one to watch them or to checkmate
their moves.
If he was saying that or if he was indulging in
any such hope he was badly mistaken. No word
was spoken between us, but at the moment I left
Hedgewater House I was automatically relieved by
Harry Hapgood. Even as I boarded the train, that
astute detective was taking his place inside the
hedge-lined gardens of Colonel Wharton's estate.
I had left the House of Mystery, but a man
equally as capable was on guard to see that truth
and justice had fair play in this battle of wits.


CHAPTER XVI
THE MOTH AND THE FLAME
I FOUND Bromley Barnes in his office, with his
feet elevated on his desk, smoking a Pittsburgh
stogie and reading Bill Nye's “ Comic History of
the United States.” That might have seemed dis-
couraging to an enthusiastic amateur sleuth, but I
knew my old friend well enough to realize that he
was neither indifferent nor indolent. His hobby
consisted of collecting the works of American hu-
morists and he said that he found in their pages
not only the needed relaxation from the cold mat-
ter-of-fact problems which he was compelled to face
every day, but also the inspiration which helped him
to solve some of his most vexatious cases.
He tossed his book aside when I entered the
room and called on me for a recital of all the events
which had occurred at Hedgewater House since our
last meeting. I told him everything clearly and in
detail, and the fact that he lifted his shaggy eye-
brows more than once convinced me that he was
deeply interested, if not amazed, at my revelations.
191


192
The Mystery of the Red Flame
He asked me many questions, and was particularly
anxious to know if I had left Hapgood on the job.
My answer in the affirmative satisfied him. He
paid special attention to the little square of cloth
which I had found near the summer-house and he
looked at it through a microscope with the manner
of an expert. After that he leaned back in his
chair and lit a fresh stogie.
“Hugh,” he said reflectively, “the more I think
of this case the more I am reminded of the old story
of the moth and the flame. You have often heard
of the gruesome fascination which draws the mur-
derer back to the scene of his crime. That is a
fact which has been proven by experience. But it
does not stop at murder. It holds good of other
forms of crime. The criminal does not rest easy.
He is nervous, impatient, ill at ease. It is so in
this case. The man who has been skulking around
Hedgewater House is only another instance of the
moth and the flame. He will never rest until his
wings are burned.”
“You seem confident?”
“Perfectly," he replied. “You have a bit of
cloth there. It is our business to find the suit of
clothes of which it was a part and after that the
man inside the suit of clothes."
I laughed.


The Moth and the Flame
193
“May I ask what you have been doing at this
end of the line?”
“ That is not only your right but your duty.
I've been trying to round up all of the diamond
dealers in town. And I've been successful, too.
The process of elimination has been going on.
I've discarded all of those that are beyond suspicion
and have only retained a few that would be likely
to yield to temptation, or that would deliberately
engage in unlawful business. There are just four
of these and they are all located on “Diamond
Row,” which is the popular name for Commerce
Street, where most of the jewelry houses are lo-
cated. I'm going to make the round of these shops
this afternoon and I want you to go with me.”
: “ What do you expect to find ?”.
“How can I tell ? "
“ But I thought you had some special object in
view.”
He laid his hand on my shoulder in a kind,
fatherly sort of fashion.
“My boy, the one thing in view always is the
Red Diamond. Aside from that, we are going on
what the lawyers call a fishing expedition. How
it will turn out I can't begin to guess. We may
not even get a nibble.”
Commerce Street proved to be a quaint little thor-


194 The Mystery of the Red Flame
oughfare in the heart of the business section of the
city. It was quite unlike any of the other streets
in the vicinity. It had a flavor and a character all
its own. Both sides of the street were lined with
curious little shops, all related in one way or another
to the trade in jewelry and precious gems. One es-
tablishment dealt exclusively in diamonds, another
in old gold and silver and a third in antiques of all
kinds. Across from these three might be found a
shop, the owner of which bought and sold and ex-
changed any old thing of merit. This included
venerable plates, historic letters, colored prints and
even false teeth, especially those that might have
been used by historic personages of bygone ages.
There was something fascinating about the exterior
of these places which made one reluctant to pass
them without going inside and exploring their in-
teriors.
Bromley Barnes was on familiar ground. He
knew most of these shops as well as he did the old
book stores that lured him inside their walls in
a search for first editions and rare copies of the
works of great American humorists. He had with
him the list of the four "suspects." We went into
the first of these and under the pretense of examin-
ing the stock managed to get a look at the proprie-
tor, a wizened up old man who appeared quite as


The Moth and the Flame 195
ancient as any of the antiques with which he was
surrounded. After we had been there about ten
minutes Barnes gave me a significant glance and
said:
“Nothing doing!”
That was the signal for our departure. The sec-
ond and third places were equally unproductive of
results, but the moment we stepped into the fourth
shop both of us felt instinctively that this was to
have some bearing upon the chase for the Red
Diamond.
The establishment was so cluttered with stuff of
all kinds that it was almost impossible to move
around. There were two or three narrow lanes
amid the piles of ancient articles and we made our
way through them as best we could. The thing
that first arrested my attention was the large num-
ber of clocks in the place. They were of all sizes
and kinds and they ticked in the most inharmoni-
ous manner imaginable. There were grandfather's
clocks, six, seven and eight feet tall, as stately and
impressive as the ages from which they descended,
and in gross juxtaposition was a series of elabo-
rate mantel clocks, some of them only a few inches
high.
There were cases containing precious stones, fire-
arms, Sheffield plate, coins, stamps, engravings,


196
The Mystery of the Red Flame
portraits, miniatures, old books, Indian curios, snuff
boxes, cameos, laces, old illustrated music, old vio-
lins, and, surrounding these, specimens of Colonial
furniture. Never outside of a public museum had
I seen such a curious collection of odds and ends.
No one seemed to have charge of these things, but
presently there was a shuffling noise and an old-
young man came from behind a screen at the far
end of the room. The moment I beheld him I gave
a start of surprise.
It was the man I had seen skulking behind the
shrubbery at Hedgewater House.
I looked twice to make sure that I was not mis-
taken. The second look confirmed my first impres-
sion. It was the midnight prowler and the man
who had been searching the summer-house that
very morning. There could be no mistaking the
smooth face, the sharp features and the ferret-like
eyes. And, as if to make assurance triply sure,
there was one other distinguishing mark.
He wore an old gray suit — the suit I had seen
so often between the bushes at Hedgewater House.
He advanced toward us now, rubbing his hands
together and bowing incessantly. Evidently he re-
garded us as customers and was fearful that he
might do or say something to scare us away. Lit-
tle did he realize that nothing could drive us from
C
.


The Moth and the Flame
197
that establishment until we had transacted the busi-
ness for which we had come. He smiled, but said
nothing. It was the veteran investigator who
opened the conversation.
“ Might I ask your name?” he said bluntly.
The smile faded slightly as the old-young man
replied:
“ Glazier — Hartley Glazier."
Barnes waved his hand in my direction.
“This is Mr. Hugh Garland,” he said, “who is
considered an authority on precious stones.”
The little eyes of the antique dealer narrowed as
he looked at me.
“Mr. Garland,” continued the man, “is the ad-
visor and assistant of Colonel Basil Wharton of
Hedgewater House."
Mr. Hartley Glazier drew back at this as if some
one had struck him. If such a thing could have
been possible I would have said that his leathery
face became pale.
“Yes,” he said, finally. “Is there anything I
can do for him? Is there anything in particular he
wants ?”
“ Yes," proceeded Barnes, with great delibera-
tion," he wants the Red Diamond!”
Glazier gasped. He caught hold of the corner
of a bookcase to steady himself and the little eyes


198
The Mystery of the Red Flame
man
looked like tiny specks of fire. Never was agita-
tion more plainly shown in a man's face and man-
ner. He made a brave effort to recover himself
and only partly succeeded. When he spoke it was
in a tremulous voice.
“I don't know why Mr. Garland, or any one else,
should come to me about a red diamond.”
“Not a red diamond,” corrected the old man
harshly, “but the Red Diamond.”
“Yes, yes,” was the nervous rejoinder. "I pre-
sume that you refer to the famous Brazilian stone
called the Star of the South.”
“You don't presume — you know!” asserted the
veteran.
The look of alarm in the diamond dealer's eyes
deepened and then slowly died out and gave way to
a look of resentment and defiance.
“I don't know you,” he said to Barnes, “and I
don't like your manner. Unless you have business
with me you'll have to excuse me.”
“We have business with you and we won't ex-
cuse you,” persisted the detective.
“ What do you want?”
“ I've told you - we want the Red Diamond.”.
“You're crazy; I haven't got the Red Diamond."
Barnes looked at him intently. After a while
he spoke again.


The Moth and the Flame 199
“ If you haven't got it maybe you'll tell us what
you've done with it."
“Who are you, anyhow?" demanded Glazier.
Barnes then threw his coat open and displayed
the little gold badge of the United States Treasury
Department. The diamond dealer recognized it at
once and the effect it had upon him was shown in
the altered tone of his voice.
"I haven't the faintest idea of the whereabouts
of the diamond you mention. I only wish I had,
sir."
“Why? " came the sharp query.
The suddenness of the question and the manner
of the detective disconcerted Glazier.
“Why — eh — it's very rare and — and I can
always find customers for rare gems."
“Quite likely," commented Barnes, drily, “ but it
would take a Carnegie or a Rockefeller to buy that
diamond.”
“But I don't know why you come to me with
such questions? ” said Glazier, peevishly.
Barnes turned to me with a peculiar grin. He
pointed to the old-young man.
“Cross-examine,” he said shortly.
“Mr. Glazier," I began in a lawyer-like fashion,
“ when were you at Hedgewater House last?"
He paused for a moment and moistened his lips


200 The Mystery of the Red Flame
with his tongue. When he spoke it was in a tone
of defiance.
“Never heard of it.”
“Oh, yes, you have. It's the home of Colonel
Basil Wharton, and until a short time ago it was
the resting place of the Red Diamond. Now just
refresh your memory. Haven't you heard of
Hedgewater House?”
He glared about him like an animal at bay. It
was some moments before he spoke and then it was
in a halting way.
“Why — yes. Now that you remind me of
it. I have heard of Hedgewater House. But I
don't know anything about it. I've never been
there.”
“Oh, yes, you have — at least you've been in the
garden."
"Have I?” in a voice of pretending incredulity.
“ Yes,” I said, adopting a bantering tone, “and
we've met several times.".
“I never met you," he exclaimed, positively.
“Well, maybe we didn't exactly meet, but we
were in sight of one another."
“ When, for instance ?"
“ The second night after the arrival of the Dom
Pedro, when you were hiding behind the bushes at
Hedgewater; the same night when you looked in the


202 The Mystery of the Red Flame
he was told. The next instant the detective had
clasped a pair of shining handcuffs about his wrists.
Whether he thought resistance was useless or.
whether he was too much dazed to protest is more
than I can tell. At all events he went to the station
house with the meekness and the docility of a lamb.
I do not pretend to be versed in the law of the land,
but the manner of his arrest and imprisonment
struck me as rather high-handed.
“Do you have the right to arrest him?" I asked
as we were leaving the station house.
“He's arrested, isn't he?" was the non-commit-
tal reply.
“ Sure.”
“Well, that's enough for the present. We can
argue questions of law later."
I grinned.
“We seem to be making progress."
“We are,” he admitted, “even if it's not evident
to the eye of a layman. You know, son, this is a
case of conspiracy and conspiracy — in a legal sense
- is one of the hardest things in the world to prove.
It's like a chain, as I have often said before, and
each link must be connected with the other. We
have two links in this chain so far. One is the
steward of the Dom Pedro. Another is the dia-
mond dealer. That's encouraging.”


The Moth and the Flame
203
“ Yes," I said, “but we haven't got the Red
Diamond yet.”
“You're right,” he agreed, with a faraway look
in his blue eyes. “We haven't got the Red Dia-
mond yet."


CHAPTER XVII
HOUSE OF A HUNDRED KEYS
BEFORE breakfast next morning Bromley Barnes
had a long distance telephone call from the Third
Assistant Secretary of State asking him if there
was any further information concerning the mys-
tery of the Red Diamond. The Washington official
said the Brazilian Minister had called at the De-
partment the day before and informed the Secre-
tary of State that his Government was very much
exercised over the disappearance of the gem, and
was willing to go to almost any extreme to recover
it. The Third Assistant said that while the United
States Government did not accept any responsibility
in the matter, it would like to serve the Brazilian
Minister to the best of its ability. He was sorry
to hear from Barnes that the diamond had not been
recovered and suggested a "little more ginger” on
the part of the Special Agents of the Treasury
would be very much appreciated by the State De-
partment.
204


House of a Hundred Keys 205
The old man smiled grimly as he put up the re-
ceiver.
“What would he think,” he asked me, “if he
knew that the Red Diamond was smuggled into this
country in the trunk of the Spanish Ambassador?”
I smiled in reply.
“I don't know, unless the thinking might bring
about a declaration of war between Spain and
Brazil.”
The incident had the effect of reminding both of
us of the importance of the quest in which we were
engaged. Also it set my mind working in another
direction..
"By the way,” I said, “I want to refresh my
mind about these twin diamonds." .
"Fire away.”
“I understood you to say that the Star of the '.
South had been cut into two perfect diamonds; that
one of these had been placed in the National Mu-
seum in Rio Janeiro and that the second after pass-
ing from one hand to another had finally been smug-
gled into this country.”
“ Correct!”
“Now what I am driving at is whether there has
been any confusion as to the identity of the stones.
You felt perfectly satisfied in the beginning, as I
understood it, that the diamond which was smug-


206 The Mystery of the Red Flame
gled into this port belonged to a private collection
in Brazil. Now you say the diamond brought here
was taken from the National Museum. How do
you know which is which? How do you know the
diamond which is supposed to be in the United
States does not belong to the private collection in
Brazil ? "
"A fair question, fairly put,” replied Barnes.
“ I'll try to enlighten you. We know that the stone
which has mysteriously disappeared does not belong
to the private collection because we have a cable-
gram from Juan Fernandous, the owner of that
collection, saying that his half of the Star of the
South is still in his possession and that it has never
left him since he purchased it."
“ So that it never came here."
" It never came here — that is perfectly evi-
dent.”
“But a red diamond did come here and it was
the Red Diamond that was stolen from the Museum
in Rio."
Barnes leaned back in his chair with a look of
amusement on his face.
"My boy, you've stated it with perfect clearness.
There is no hocus-pocus about this matter. What
is known to fame as the Star of the South — or
half of it — has been stolen and smuggled into this


House of a Hundred Keys
207
country. It is not paste or imitation; there has
been no substitution, and this gem is worth a for-
tune to its holder.”
While we talked a message came from the ever-
faithful Hapgood saying: “All's well and the
goose hangs high.” This was his way of saying
that the situation at Hedgewater House was un-
changed and that he was still on guard.
That simple message had the effect of vividly
recalling the events of the last few days to my
mind. I could see myself in the office of Collector
Fread hearing the story of the Red Diamond for the
first time and receiving my instructions concerning
the part I was to play in its recovery. Then came
the advertisement which had taken me to Hedge-
water House as an assistant to Colonel Basil Whar,
ton, and after that my first view of that house of
mystery at night with the creepy sensations it had
induced. Most vivid of all was my recollection of
my first view of Dora Wharton, full of life and
vivacity, with her quick, graceful movements, her
glossy black hair, her quizzical, questioning eyes,
and her smiling lips. When all remembrance of
this strange adventure had passed away, that por-
trait would remain fresh in my memory.
Jules Jacquette came next with his big head rest-
ing on his thick neck, his closely-cropped gray


208
The Mystery of the Red Flame
hair, his compelling gray eyes and those large,
greedy, expressive hands — the hands that gave you
a key to the character of the man. At my first
meeting I felt the magnetism of this person and yet
at the same time I entertained an unconquerable
distrust of the man. I recalled his eagerness as
Colonel Wharton had shown us the Red Diamond
- a pool of flame in that dimly lighted room.
Then came the sight of the man in gray skulking
Dora receiving the strange letter which had un-
nerved her, and, as a climax, my discovery of her
opening the safe in the dead of the night. What
agony of mind that scene cost me no pen can ever
tell! Bromley Barnes next appeared in my mind's
eye, telling me the story of the thirteenth trunk, and
explaining how the clever smugglers had used the
Spanish Ambassador in working a new trick on the
customs officials. In quick succession came the
news of the robbery of the museum at Rio Janeiro,
Victor Jayne's attempt to win Dora Wharton, the
sensational denunciation of myself as a spy, my
discovery of the duplicity of Jacquette and Jayne
while hidden behind the summer-house, my quitting
of the house of mystery and finally the dramatic ar-
rest of the diamond dealer. These startling events
had occurred in such rapid succession that they


210 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“You mean you didn't know anything in the be-
ginning,” suggested the veteran, “ but I'm sure your
short rest in prison has refreshed your memory.”
"It ain't refreshed nothin',” was the sullen re-
ply.
“Come, come now," prompted Barnes, " tell us
the names of the men who were with you in this
scheme.”
“There wasn't no scheme," said the steward in
a sing-song way.
"Remember," warned the detective, “ I'm giving
you your chance and if you don't take advantage
of it it will be your own fault.”
“Why don't you let me alone?” whined John-
son. “I can't tell you what I don't know."
“ You mean you won't tell.”
“I didn't say that,” retorted the steward with an
attempt at dignity. “You're just puttin' them
words in my mouth.”
“If you won't tell,” cried the chief angrily,
“there may be others who will.”
At that point he managed to direct the glance of
the prisoner to the courtyard below. Two officers
appeared leading a man between them. His head
was sunk on his breast and he seemed hopelessly
despondent. Presently he raised his eyes and
looked up.


House of a Hundred Keys 211
The man was Hartley Glazier, the diamond
dealer from Commerce Street !
A quiver passed through the steward of the Dom
Pedro. I could see the muscles of his face con-
tracting. He appeared to be on the point of speak-
ing, but gradually the emotion died away. So near
and yet so far.
The experiment was a failure.
Bromley Barnes realized this before he spoke.
Yet he addressed Johnson more as a matter of form
than anything else.
“Once more — have you anything to say?"
Johnson shook his head.
“ Take him away,” said the chief, and the next
moment the officers were leading the steward out
of the room.
" It didn't work,” admitted Barnes to me.
“It's old stuff," I ventured, “ and he's too bright
a bird to be caught with any such chaff.”
Barnes didn't like that but he accepted his failure
good naturedly.
“ The fellow's guilty,” he insisted, “but he had
more nerve than I expected. You noticed him
shiver, didn't you? Well, that satisfies me all right
- all right.”
“What about Glazier?” I asked.
“I was just coming to that,” he said. “ Here's


214 The Mystery of the Red Flame
has hidden some of his secrets. Query: where is
the room?”
“Have you looked anywhere?”
“We've examined all of the rooms in his shop
without result. This key must unlock some door
in another part of the city. My theory is that it is
a vacant house — that is to say an unoccupied
house. But there are a thousand such houses in
this city and I wouldn't know where to start. Be-
sides, even if I did, when could we ever complete
such a task?”
While he talked I had the key in my hand and
was examining it — and thinking. Presently an
idea came into my head and it filled me with joy.
I turned to Barnes.
“You couldn't do it alone, of course. But why
not get the assistance of the city police. Chief
Kelly's a good scout. He'd lend you a hundred of
his men for a day."
Barnes stared at me.
“Hundred men with one key — Hugh, you must
have been drinking."
“No," I retorted. “I mean a hundred men with
a hundred keys."
He stared at me.
“Give me that key,” I said, “and in an hour I'll
have a hundred duplicates made for you."


House of a Hundred Keys 215
He leaned over and gave me a cordial slap on the
back.
“ By Jove,” he cried, “ I'll have to hand it to you,
boy. You have some gray matter in that head of
yours. The thing's so obviously simple that it
never occurred to me.”
Ten minutes later the key had been left with a
locksmith with instructions to make the one hun-
dred duplicates. After that we proceeded to the
office of the chief of police. Kelly, the czar of the
local force, sat at a desk in a room filled with tobacco
smoke. He recognized Barnes through the haze.
“Hello," he cried, " in trouble?”
The old man smiled grimly.
“That's a fine way to greet an old friend," he
retorted.
Kelly laughed.
“ You fellows are all the same. You lambast
the regular police and call us a bunch of boobs, but
when you get a nut you can't crack you bring it
here. Now own up. Isn't that the truth?”
The blue eyes of the veteran investigator danced
merrily.
“Well, it's not exactly that way, but —".
“But you've come here to ask my help,” inter-
rupted the chief.
“Yes,” confessed Barnes, “ we have.”


216 The Mystery of the Red Flame
That put Kelly in excellent humor. He pulled
out a box of cigars and insisted upon each of us
taking one before he would talk business. After
they had been lighted and the smoke in the room
had become more dense he exclaimed:
“Now, fire away — I'm at your service and I'll
go the limit.”
Barnes put the case to him in a very few words.
He explained all that had been done and said that
it was extremely important that he should find the
house with a door that had a latch which could be
opened with this particular key.
“We're having a hundred keys made,” he con-
cluded, “and we can furnish your men with these
keys."
Kelly looked at the old man with undisguised ad-
miration.
“Say,” he said, finally, “ the key business is a
new stunt to me. I've never heard of pulling off
anything like that before.”
“But can you help us?”
“ You bet we can. This town is divided into
fifty police districts and I'll put two men in each
district on the case at once. They'll tackle all the
unoccupied houses. They know 'em all right. And
after that, if necessary, they'll try every door of
every house in this bloomin' town. If you do a
ne


218
The Mystery of the Red Flame
to the suspected house. Curiously enough it was
on the way to Hedgewater and about half way to
that place. The structure proved to be an old-
fashioned dwelling which looked as if it might have
been once the home of a wealthy man. It had a
terraced front and the yard was overgrown with
weeds and grass. It was built on Colonial lines
with a quaint front door and green shutters. There
was an iron knocker on the door and the thing
breathed the atmosphere of 1776. But the whole
business was rapidly going into a state of decay.
The paint was peeling off the door and the shut-
ters and the place looked as if it had been aban-
doned for many years.
We found Hammond standing on the front porch
smiling blandly and holding the magic latch-key in
his hand.
“The boss," he said, “ told me to give you this
key and to take a day off for my pains.”
“You've earned it," admitted Barnes. “Here,
stick this in your jeans."
He slipped a gold piece into the hand of the de-
lighted officer, who went his way, bowing and
scraping as if he had received a decoration from a
sovereign.
We lost no time in going through the house and
what we found there more than fulfilled our wild-


House of a Hundred Keys 219
est expectations. It had been used as a storehouse,
and it was almost filled with silks, velvets and other
expensive goods that had been smuggled from
abroad. Barnes, with his experienced eyes, recog-
nized many of the articles, and was able to name
the vessel upon which they had been brought to this
country.
“This is one of the biggest hauls I've ever made
in my professional career,” he said, “and even if
nothing else comes of it, we'll make a big hit with
the Department. My boy, you deserve promotion
for this, and you'll get it if I have any influence
with the big fellows at the front."
“How about the Red Diamond?” I asked.
“I don't know — let's look for it."
We spent three solid hours in going through
every nook and corner of the House of a Hundred
Keys — for that is what Barnes persisted in calling
it — but we were unable to find the slightest trace
of the missing diamond.


CHAPTER XVIII
THE MYSTERIOUS LETTER
BEFORE we left the neighborhood of the smug-
glers' house Barnes had communicated with Col-
lector Fread and arranged to have it watched day
and night. He was in high spirits and insisted upon
calling me the hero of the House of a Hundred
Keys, a title which I modestly disclaimed. Both
of us were disappointed at not finding the diamond,
but we felt the discovery of the house had some-
how brought us nearer to the climax of the adven-
ture.
When we reached the office a red-haired messen-
ger boy was waiting for me. He came from
Hedgewater House as the bearer of a confidential
message from the imperturbable Hapgood, detective
and philosopher. In this communication he as-
sured me that he had watched the house and its
inmates with the faithfulness of a dumb beast; that
he could give a detailed report of the movements of
every member of the household, including the num-
ber of cigarettes smoked by Jules Jacquette. As the
220


222
The Mystery of the Red Flame
to a heavy fine and imprisonment besides. It rests
with you to save him from this disgrace. This
warning is from a friend who would spare him from
the unneccessary calamity.
I gasped with surprise when I read this remark-
able communication and then I gave a shout of joy.
Its significance and its importance were self-evident.
It was the mysterious letter which Dora Wharton
had received on the night the Colonel had first ex-
hibited the Red Diamond. It was the communica-
tion which had caused her so much suffering. It
was written for a purpose and it had accomplished
its purpose. I put myself in her place. What
would I have done if I had been the girl and had
received such a warning? Filled with terror, I
should have attempted to save Colonel Wharton at
any cost.
It was that feeling which had prompted the girl
to arise in the middle of the night and to remove the
diamond from the safe.
Joy and grief struggled for the mastery as these
thoughts rushed through my mind. I was filled
with delight at the realization of the fact that Dora
Wharton was as innocent of wrongdoing as an un-
born babe. I was filled with anguish at myself for
having, even in thought, considered her capable of
anything that was not honest and straightforward.


The Mysterious Letter 223
But the loyalty of a woman to those she loves
knows no limit and it was the knowledge of that
trait which had crowded my mind with misgiv-
ings.
My first impulse was to rush to Dora and ab-
jectly beg her forgiveness for having doubted her
integrity. My second thought was how I could
utilize this letter in helping to solve the mystery
which hung over Hedgewater House and which
threatened to destroy the happiness of so many in-
nocent persons. I folded the letter carefully and
placed it in my wallet and endeavored to look the
facts in the face.
What had Dora done with the Red Diamond and
where was it at this moment? The answer to these
two questions might save me much work and worry.
But even if she knew would she be willing to give
me the information? She disliked me, she dis-
trusted me — aye, she seemed to hate me. I tried
to face the situation honestly. What had hap-
pened to change this state of affairs? I had learned
that she was duped by an anonymous letter, that she
had removed the Red Diamond from Colonel Whar-
ton's safe, and that later it had probably been stolen
from her by some other person. I was naturally
delighted to learn that Dora, so far as known, was
guiltless in the matter. My mind was partially re-


224
The Mystery of the Red Flame
lieved. But would that fact cause her to change her
feelings toward me? I feared not.
The next question to consider was the identity of
the person who had sent her the anonymous letter.
I went over the list of persons who would be likely
to do such a thing. Could it be Jules Jacquette ?
I was willing to believe anything against the man,
but was it likely that he would write such a letter in
order to have the girl take the. diamond from the
safe? Was it not more likely, if he wanted the dia-
mond, that he would await some more favorable
opportunity for getting it? I thought of Victor
Jayne — the detestable Victor Jayne — who had ex-
posed and humiliated me before the girl I loved.
He would do anything to injure me, but it was dif-
ficult to see how the disappearance of the diamond
could be made to affect my standing in the house.
I was sure that he would not halt at any crime to ad-
vance his own interests, but how would it help him
to have the diamond removed from the safe? Not
at all unless he intended stealing it, and the obvious
distress of both Jayne and Jacquette over the dis-
appearance of the gem satisfied me that they were
not the senders of the warning note.
That left one man who might have been the au-
thor of the anonymous communication. It was the
man behind the hedge, the man in the gray suit, the


The Mysterious Letter
225
diamond dealer - Hartley Glazier. He was ob-
viously seeking the diamond. He must have been
peering through the window that night when it was
placed in the safe. What more likely than that he
should resort to some ruse to prevent it from being
kept in the burglar-proof place? As I thought over
this I pulled the letter out of my wallet and looked
at it again. It was written in a scrawling hand, and
yet the wording of the epistle suggested an educated
man. At least it was not the language of an illit-
erate person. Besides, the handwriting itself did
not prove anything. More than likely it was dis-
guised.
Bromley Barnes was engaged in clearing up the
accumulation of work on his desk. He finished, and
as he lit a fresh stogie I passed him the letter.
“Here's a fresh bit of evidence sent to us from
Hapgood," I said.
He read it through hastily and then re-read it with
great care. After that he rubbed his chin reflect-
ively and gazed into space.
“ This is good stuff,” he said, finally, “the ques-
tion is, who sent it to the girl.”
" Aye," I repeated ironically. “That's the ques-
tion.”
“What's your guess ? ”.
“My guess is Hartley Glazier.”


226
The Mystery of the Red Flame
He pursed up his lips and smote the desk with a
bang.
“Not a half bad guess — and since the discovery
of the House of a Hundred Keys I've learned to
respect your guesses."
I smiled and went through the business of pro-
testing, but Barnes was thinking — thinking deeply.
In a little while he arose and pointed his finger at
me dramatically.
" I've got it, son — we must get a specimen of
Glazier's handwriting.”
“ Yes," I admitted, “but how?”
“But how," he repeated, nodding his head, “ but
how?"
· A long silence followed and then the veteran of
the force outlined a scheme. It was simple enough
and had the advantage of having been tried before.
He proposed to put a stool pigeon in the cell with
Glazier, and then, under some pretext, of having
this stool pigeon ask the diamond dealer to write a
letter for him. Within the hour he carried his
scheme into execution. It worked like a charm.
The fellow, charged with drunk and disorderly con-
duct, was thrust into the same cell with Glazier.
His right hand was bandaged. He asked the dia-
mond dealer to write a note at his dictation. It was
addressed to an imaginary individual who was im-


The Mysterious Letter
227
plored to come and get him out of jail. Glazier bit
with the eagerness of a brook trout. He was evi-
dently glad to do anything to while away the time.
It gave us precisely what we wanted — a specimen
of the diamond dealer's handwriting. The note,
after the usual form of address, said:
I want you to come here at once and get me out of
prison. It is unneccessary to tell you that you will
have to go my bail. If you do not act promptly I
may be sentenced to a term in the work house and
that is something I cannot contemplate with equa-
nimity.
Barnes held the note in one hand and the anony-
mous letter in the other and compared them very
carefully. Finally, he said:
“On the face of it I would say that these letters
were written by different persons, but I want to have
a session with our handwriting expert and after
that I'll be able to give you a definite opinion on the
subject.”
He left the room and I devoted myself to writing
some routine reports which had been neglected dur-
ing my absence at Hedgewater House. It must
have been an hour later when Barnes returned in
company with a little old man with sparse gray
hair and a fringe of beard under his chin - a per-
fect reproduction of what Horace Greeley must have


228 The Mystery of the Red Flame
looked like in the latter days of his life. The in-
vestigator motioned in the direction of his compan-
ion.
“You know Phillips — our handwriting expert."
I nodded.
Barnes beamed upon him in his most benevolent
manner, and assumed the air of a manager showing
off his pet performer.
“ Phillips,” continued the detective, “tell our
young friend here what you make out of the letters.”
The expert, thus addressed, adjusted his spec-
tacles and cleared his throat.
“I find,” he said, pointing to the first epistle,
" that this letter is written in an assumed hand.
The writer has attempted to disguise his usual
style."
“But the two letters," I interrupted impatiently,
“are they written by the same person?”
He bowed assent.
“ They are written by the same person.”
“How do you know?”
“There are three things which lead me to this
conclusion,” he said. “ The first is that the shading
on the tails of certain letters is almost identical.
When the writer has occasion to make a 'g' or an
'f' or a 'y' he invariably leans heavily on his pen
or his pencil and we notice an unusual shading.


The Mysterious Letter
229
were
on.
This is characteristic of all these letters in both com-
munications. The second thing is the writer's
method of connecting certain of his words. This is
a habit quite common with telegraphers or those
who write a great deal, or who are compelled to
write rapidly and under great pressure. It occurs
several times in each of these letters. Finally there
is a similarity in the spelling — that is to say, in
each letter the writer has misspelled the word ' un-
necessary.' In each case he has used two 'c's.'
These things, together with what I might call the
atmosphere of the letters, convince me that they
were written by one and the same person. It is
most conclusive to me. I cannot tell how it may
impress you two gentlemen.”
“ It satisfies me— down to the ground,” cried
Bromley Barnes.
“ And me, too,” I concurred, with a smile.
After the quaint old gentleman had left the room
we turned and looked at one another and exclaimed
simultaneously:
“ Glazier!”
There was not the shadow of a doubt but that
the man in gray who lurked behind the bushes had
sent the warning letter to Dora Wharton.
We were now perfectly satisfied that the steward
of the Dom Pedro and the diamond dealer of Com-


230
The Mystery of the Red Flame
merce Street were two important links in the mys-
tery of the Red Diamond. At least another would
be needed to legally prove the smuggling conspiracy.
Where was he or she to come from?


232
The Mystery of the Red Flame
tell him. He's the only one I'd trust and I'm sure
he'd understand.”
As a result of this the diplomatic Hapgood made
her promise that she would come to me at once, and
she was now on her way to the office. Hapgood
took it all as a matter of course and as part of the
day's work, but it was important news for me, and
I hung up the receiver and waited for the girl with
ill-concealed impatience.
During the interval I endeavored to refresh my
mind concerning Amy Smith. For the first time I
began to attach significance to the strange actions of
the girl. Her tearful, homely face rose up to ac-
cuse me of lack of acumen. Why had I not
watched her while I was at Hedgewater House?
It was Aunt Sarah who had first called my attention
to the girl with the statement that she was grieving
because her expected marriage had been indefinitely
postponed. The chap she was engaged to marry had
lost his money and for that reason the date of the
nuptials had been canceled. I remembered, too,
her agitation over the loss of the diamond and the
scared, tearful look which she seemed to constantly
wear. At the time I ascribed this to the natural
emotion of a loyal domestic. Might it not have a
deeper significance? But speculation was useless.
I would soon have the opportunity of talking with


Amy Smith's Story
233
her and in her state of mind it was quite possible
that she might tell me something of importance.
How important it was to be did not even dawn on
me at the time.
While this was going through my mind there
came a timid knock at the office door, and the girl
was announced. Her appearance was pitiable in
the extreme. She was dusty and disheveled, and
her tear-stained face was enough to melt the heart
of the sternest official. It was evident that she must
be handled gently and that was the line of procedure
upon which I immediately determined. I bade her
to be seated, patted her on the back and asked what
I could do for her.
“Oh, Mr. Garland,” she cried excitedly, “ I've
got something I've got to tell you right away. I
can't keep it any longer; I must tell it or it will kill
me."
“There, there," I said, kindly,“ don't excite
yourself. Go ahead and tell me anything you
wish.”
She glanced up with a half-hunted and half de-
fiant look on her face. Her gaze fell on Bromley
Barnes.
"I won't tell you nothin' while that man's in the
room. What I've got to say is for you alone.”
Before I could say a word Barnes arose with a


234
The Mystery of the Red Flame
smile, and reaching for his hat left the office. It
was characteristic of the man. He realized the pos-
sibilities of the expected interview and he was not
going to risk spoiling the thing through any foolish
notions of official procedure.
When the door closed the girl seemed on the
verge of collapse. But she pulled herself together
with an effort.
“Mr. Garland, I've been a terrible bad woman.
I was tempted to do something wrong and I done
it. Please say you don't blame me, please say
that!”
I made some soothing response to this extraor-
dinary demand, and she continued :
“My trouble began the day that awful diamond
came to the house - or leastwise the day I thought
it came to the house. That very night I got word
that my young man had lost his money gamblin'
and that we couldn't get married. It hurt me some-
thing awful, but I tried hard to forget it and to think
only of my work."
“Yes, Amy," I said encouragingly, “I heard
about that, now go ahead.”
“ The terrible thing started the night Colonel
Wharton showed that diamond to youse people.
The minute I set my eyes on it I says to myself,
“I'd give my soul to have that diamond.' It was a


Amy Smith's Story
235
terrible thing to say, even to yourself, wasn't it?"
“ It was.”
“Well, I couldn't help thinkin' about it, all night,
and I went out into the garden an' did my best to get
it off my mind. But the more I tried the harder I
thought. Just then a man in a gray suit came up
an' handed me a letter which he says was for Miss
Dora —”
“That was Hartley Glazier," I interrupted.
"I don't know nothin' about his name. All I
know is that I gave it to Miss Dora an' when she
read it she got as white as the sheets on her bed.
I couldn't keep my eyes off her for the rest of the
night. I went to my room but I couldn't go to sleep
for thinkin' of that diamond and the terrible look on
Miss Dora's face. It must have been after mid-
night when I came out of my room and looked over
the third story landin'. I heard some one in the
livin'-room an' I crept down to the second story
and I seen that it was Miss Dora takin' somethin'
out of the safe. An' I knew it was the diamond
an' it made me shake like a leaf. An' then I seen
you there starin' down at her an' I run back to my
room. I know'd that what she done was none of
my business but I couldn't rest. An' about an hour
after that I looked out of my window an' seen a
man climbin' down the lattice work from the corner


236
The Mystery of the Red Flame
of Miss Dora's room. An' when he got to the
ground I seen it was the man with the gray suit."
I gasped, but when Amy would have paused I
told her to go ahead with her story.
“What could a poor girl do?” she continued.
“I was sure he was a thief, so I got an old pistol
I keep under my pillow and shot at him. What
with fright and excitement I could hardly stand
up. But I left my room and run down to the gar-
den and there was Miss Dora with her hair down
an' a dressin' gown on and wringin' her hands
enough to break your heart. She started when she
seen me an' nearly fainted. But when she found
out who it was she said:
“ Amy, did you see a man in the garden ?'
“Yes, Miss,' I said, 'I shot at him from my
window.'
“Oh,' she says, “then it was you that fired the
pistol. Oh, Amy, I've been robbed! That man
broke into my room and took somethin' that is very,
very valuable.
""Shall I give the alarm?' I asked.
“But when I said that the poor creature got more
frightened than ever and cried :
“It's too late! It's too late! And, Amy, you
must promise me that you'll never, never, tell a livin'
soul what's happened here to-night.'


Amy Smith’Story 237
“An' I promised. And, oh, Mr. Garland, now
I'm tellin' it all to you."
“That's all right, Amy,” I murmured, soothingly.
“You're doing the right thing. Go ahead with
your story."
“Well,” continued the girl, “I had a terrible
time gettin' the poor creature to her room. An'
after that I made up my mind to go back to the
garden and see if I could find out anything more.
I walked down the path toward the gate and when
I reached the entrance I seen somethin' on the grass
shinin' like the sun. I stooped down and picked it
up. It was the Red Diamond.”
“Yes! Yes!” I cried, rising from my chair, in
my excitement and gripping her wrists, “and what
did you do with it?”
Amy was sobbing now, and the tears trickled
down her cheeks. She hung her head and seemed
unable to speak. I was afraid my agitation might
check her revelation and I hastened to assure her
that she could have confidence in me.
"I— I hate to tell you the rest of it,” she sobbed.
“I'm so ashamed of myself.”
“ Never mind — go right on."
“Well,” she said, mastering her emotion, “my
first thought was to run upstairs and give the dia-
mond to Miss Dora. But the more I looked at the


Amy Smith's Story 241
gives me the creeps. I ain't no great believer in
bad luck, but I just hate to think of what would
happen to me if I put my hands on it agin.”
I smiled at the girl even while I sympathized with
the feelings she expressed so eloquently in her own
homely style.
But I realized that the time had now come for
action — and for prompt action at that. I looked
at my watch. It was ten o'clock. A swift automo-
bile would get us to Hedgewater in less than an
hour. While I was thinking, the girl watched me
with the solicitude of a dumb beast.
“You ain't ablamin' me for what's happened, are
you? ” she asked anxiously.
“Not at all, Amy," I said. “You made a big
mistake but you've done the right thing in coming to
me with your story. Now I'm going to Hedge-
water at once and I want you to go with me and
point out the spot where you buried the diamond.
Will you do that?”
“Yes, sir, and anything else you want me to do."
I left the room and found Barnes waiting in an
adjoining office. Hurriedly, but clearly, I told him
Amy Smith's story and explained that I was going
to hurry to the house at once. For answer he went
to the telephone and ordered a taxicab.
“ Well,” he said, as he hung up the receiver and
me


Amy Smith's Story 243
whizzed up to the curb in front of the office and was
pumping away at the rate of five cents a minute.
I called to Amy Smith, and as she joined us, said:
“ This is Mr. Barnes, who is my superior and who
is interested in the recovery of the diamond. He
is going with us."
She said nothing but looked at the great investi-
gator in a way that did not betoken complete con-
fidence. We drove to the Custom House side of
the building, where we were joined by Collector
Fread. He was carefully dressed, as usual, and
squeezed into the vehicle with a frown upon his
noble brow. He stared at Amy Smith wonderingly.
“We'll explain as we go along,” I hastened to
say.
“You haven't much room here," he grunted, in
no wise mollified. “It doesn't look very comfort-
able.”
“You're going to sacrifice your comfort in a good
cause," commented Barnes.
“ That remains to be seen," retorted the Col-
lector.
The next moment we had started off, at headlong
speed, in the direction of Hedgewater House.


The Gentle Art of Smuggling
245
After this had been repeated five times he gave up
all attempts at being dignified and cried :
“Damn it, man; this is worse than riding the
loop-the-loop!”
Then, remembering that a member of the gentler
sex was present, he apologized handsomely and
blamed his bad temper on Bromley Barnes. Con-
versation, under the circumstances, was so difficult
that it was abandoned. The reckless driver was
having the time of his life. Aside from the fact
that he was an Irishman and red-headed he lovingly
thought of the five-dollar gold piece which Barnes
had slipped him as an incentive to speed. With this
combination a traffic policeman counted for less than
the dust in the road, and if the Angel Gabriel had
appeared and commanded him to slow up he would
have been as blind as a bat and as deaf as a post.
Presently the lights of the city passed from view
and the taxi reached the broad, smooth highway
leading to the Burlington Pike. It was a happy re-
lief. Collector Fread was not a coward, but there
were times when the machine was turning the street
corners when each of the hairs on his glorious head
must have stood up in solemn, if silent, protest.
Conversation was possible now and the Collector
turning to me said:
“ Garland, I was interrupted in my office while I


246 The Mystery of the Red Flame
was trying to interpret a very vexatious customs
regulation.”
“Yes, sir?” I answered, interrogatively.
“ Barnes has kept me informed regarding all of
the details of this peculiar case,” he continued. “It
seems that some of the relatives of this Colonel
Wharton have been alarmed because they feared he
might be liable to arrest and imprisonment on the
charge of smuggling this Red Diamond into the
United States. Am I correctly informed?”
“ Yes, sir," I said. “Miss Wharton was par-
ticularly distressed on this account and I'm afraid
that her fear has caused most of the complications in
this case.”
“I see," commented the Collector. “Like the
Southern darky, she's had a lot of trouble in her
time — most of which never happened.”
This light and frivolous reference to Dora Whar-
ton did not please me in the least and I hastened to
her defense.
“It's happened, all right, Mr. Collector, and the
fact that much of it was needless is not going to
make the girl feel any better.”
He twirled his glasses about for a moment or two
and then said to me in his best cross-examining tone:
“ This — this Colonel Wharton rested under the
impression that he was a smuggler.”
2S a
S


The Gentle Art of Smuggling 247
“He did.”
“ Well, he wasn't.”.
I started up out of my seat at this astonishing
statement.
“Why not?” I gasped.
“Simply because nothing was smuggled.”
I laughed mirthlessly and slowly resumed my seat.
“ Collector, I don't feel like being joshed.”
He frowned.
“I don't quite comprehend your jargon about be-
ing joshed, but I have distinctly said that there was
no smuggling in this case and I repeat it. My re-
marks need an explanation. Very well; I'll try to
explain. Under the law of August 5, 1909, there
is an explicit provision made for the free entry of
works of art which shall have been produced more
than one hundred years prior to their importation.
Hence, if an article is permitted to come into this
country free of duty it would be impossible to smug-
gle it. Do you get the drift of my remarks?”.
“Yes," spoke Bromley Barnes, “but it all de-
pends upon whether that clause of the tariff bill can
be made to apply to this diamond. I know the act
very well. It's called the Antique Act. But can
you call a diamond an antique? How old is the
Star of the South?”
I grinned at the question.
ore


248
The Mystery of the Red Flame
“I should say it was thousands of years old —
it must be as venerable as the hills of Brazil from
which it was dug."
“Oh, you know what I mean,” retorted the old
man, impatiently. “How long has it been since it
was discovered and cut into its present form?"
"Hundreds of years — beyond the shadow of a
doubt.”
“Well, that settles the age part,” agreed Barnes.
“ The next question is whether it comes under the
provisions of this act. As I understand the act, the
article to be admitted free must not only be an an-
tique, but an artistic antique.”
“Well,” said the Collector, “it's cut — like any
other diamond.”
“But is that cutting the work of an artist; might
it not be done by any skilled artisan?”
Collector Fread turned to me.
“ What have you to say, Garland ?”
Thus appealed to, I tried to marshal my thoughts
so that they might be spoken in a way that would
satisfy the official conscience of the Collector.
"I say,” I began, “ that Barnes is right about the
cutting. That may be the work of an artist, but it
is not necessarily so. But there is something you
all seem to have overlooked, and that is the setting.
The sunburst in which that red diamond is set is


250 The Mystery of the Red Flame
For the first time since the technical conversation
began we remembered the presence of Amy Smith.
She had been following the talk with open-mouthed
wonder. Although uneducated, she was a bright
girl and had grasped the significance of what we
were saying. The interest of the subject had
almost made her forget her own griefs. She
looked up now with a wan smile on her homely
face:
“ Lordy, but this will make Miss Dora happy.
Colonel Wharton ain't no smuggler after all!”.
The same thought had come to my own mind.
If Dora Wharton had only known of this law how
much it might saved her. If she had not secretly
taken the diamond from the safe! It reminded me
of the everlasting truth of the old lines, “ Oh, what
a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to
deceive."
Bromley Barnes was disposed to be cynical.
“I accept the decision which you gentlemen have
handed down," he said, “and I want to thank you
for your entertaining dissertation on the gentle art
of smuggling. It seems that it's not a question of
morals at all. It's merely a hair-splitting interpre-
tation of the law. If the setting of that bloodthirsty
diamond had been just a shade less artistic, Colonel
Wharton would now be a criminal. As it is he is


The Gentle Art of Smuggling 251
simply a much-injured and badly-used man. It is
laughable.”
“ Barnes," exclaimed the Collector, sternly, “no
one ever said anything about the morality of the
case. It's just a matter of being law-abiding. If
you're not willing to live up to the laws of the land
you're not a good citizen. Many people think they
are doing a clever thing if they cheat the Govern-
ment out of its just dues. It's all a matter of con-
science. But you know better than any one else
that the Government can't afford to let itself be
cheated and that's why it pursues the offenders to
the last ditch.”
The old investigator had been squirming about in
his seat during this discourse and now he straight-
ened up and exclaimed abruptly:
“What's the use of wasting our time with this
hot air when we've got important business ahead of
us? We're in a hurry!”.
Fread adjusted his glasses and looked at Barnes
with amazement depicted on every lineament of his
well-bred countenance.
“My dear Barnes,” he expostulated, “ if we went
any faster we'd have to use a flying machine. And
as for the talk, it hasn't delayed us in the least.
Also I can see that it has afforded immense relief to
our young friend here."


252 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“Yes," I admitted, “it has, and I'm sure that
when we tell Colonel Wharton it will hasten his re-
covery."
“How about Miss Wharton ?” asked the old fox,
slyly.
I knew then that Bromley Barnes had been saying
more than his prayers. The allusion caused my
cheeks to grow suddenly very hot and I hastened
to change the subject without answering the Col-
lector's question.
By this time we were in the country, rushing past
desolated corn fields and bleak-looking meadows.
I knew that we were within a short distance of
Hedgewater House and I was mentally mapping out
my plan of campaign. I looked at Amy Smith, who
was huddled in the corner of the taxi, and told her
to be prepared to take me to the spot where she had
buried the diamond.
Just about that time the driver of the vehicle was
attracted by a man standing in the middle of the
road, waving a handkerchief. He put the brakes
on and halted the machine just in time to avoid run-
ning over the daring person. We poked our heads
out of the window to get a glimpse of the luna-
tic.
It was Burton Hapgood.
He was grinning from ear to ear and he hopped
on.


The Gentle Art of Smuggling 253
on to the little footboard with the alacrity of an
acrobat.
"I felt it was a hundred to one shot that it was
you," he said, addressing his remarks to Barnes,
“so I took a chance on halting you."
“But why the circus stunt?" asked the old man,
only partly mollified; “ couldn't you wait until we
reached Hedgewater?”
“Didn't want to risk that,” drawled the cheerful
one. “ I've made a little discovery and thought
you ought to know it before you got there."
We all pricked up our ears at that and the Col-
lector suggested that Hapgood might squeeze his
way into the'taxi.
“ Nope," he replied affably, “I'd rather not.
Put on all the steam you like. I can hang on to
this until we get to the house."
“What have you discovered?” I asked, impa-
tiently.
“Well," he said, in his provokingly slow man-
ner, “ I've had my eye on that fellow Victor Jayne.
He's been leaving the house every little while and
this morning I followed him to the bank. He got
the teller to change a hundred dollar bill. After
he left I showed the teller my badge and induced
him to give me the note in exchange for other
money."


254 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“ Yes ?” I said breathlessly.
“ It turned out just as I thought. I looked at
the number on the note and it's one that belonged
to Colonel Wharton.”
“Fine," ejaculated Barnes, “ we've got the goods
on him!”
“There's something else," continued Hapgood.
“ They're trying to make that girl marry this fel-
low. They're at it now in the sickroom. If you
hurry you may be able to get there in time to take
part in the proceedings.”
My heart sank. Every minute counted now and
I wondered if we would reach the house in time to
save Dora.


258
The Mystery of the Red Flame
sition only makes her more determined to go ahead.
But thank goodness, we can give her some real food
for thought now.”
“Doctor,” I said, “ do you think it would help
Colonel Wharton if we were to have the Collector
explain that he was not liable for smuggling?”
He nodded emphatically.
“It would help him more than any treatment I
could possibly devise.”
“Now another thing — would a shock hurt him
in his present condition?”
“On the contrary, if it is the right kind of a
shock it might be the very thing to restore to him
the power of speech.”
“ Very well, then, I'm willing to go upstairs,
even at the risk of offending Miss Wharton.”
So we filed up the broad stairway, Indian fash-
ion. It was a curious procession, Henderson in the
lead, followed by Collector Fread, Bromley Barnes,
Burton Hapgood and myself. I was about to tell
Hapgood to remain in the garden with Amy Smith,
but after his long vigil at the house of mystery I
felt that he had the right to be in at the dénouement.
When we reached the first landing I noticed the
doors of the Colonel's bedroom were open and I
was able to get a good view of the interior. The
patient lay on his back on one of those old-fash-


The Third Link
259
ren
W
re-
ioned, four-posted mahogany bedsteads which were
so popular in Colonial days, but which are now re-
garded by most persons as relics and curiosities.
His face was white and there was a wearied look
in his eyes. He looked up as he heard us approach-
ing and it seemed to me that that worn face took on
a slight touch of color. His long, thin, aristocratic
hands played nervously with the bed clothing.'
By his side and leaning over him with solicitude
in every feature of her face was Dora Wharton.
She was calm enough, but there was a look of hope-
less resignation about her that smote me to the
heart. I would have given anything for the privi-
lege of smoothing her glossy black hair and of evok-
ing the old familiar questioning look in her beauti-
ful eyes.
She did not glance up, but spoke in an undertone
to Aunt Sarah Crilly, who was seated in a chair on
the opposite side of the bed. That dear old lady
seemed quite crushed with the weight of her woe.
Directly behind her stood the Brazilian, with his
eyes glued on the man in the bed. He glanced up
as we entered and his expression changed. There
was the same resoluteness in that big head resting
on the thick neck, but he was a man at bay. He
raised his hands as a pantomimic expression of his
feelings. That gesture with those eager, greedy
W


260 The Mystery of the Red Flame
hands was at once a salutation and a protest against
this unheralded invasion of the sickroom. But,
aside from that unpremeditated move, he was affa-
bility itself. He moved his great bulk about with
the singular agility for which he was noted. He
met Doctor Henderson as he was entering the room.
"Ah!” he cried in his carefully enunciated Eng-
lish, “the dear Doctor is back again and we are all
so glad."
Seeing me, he thrust out his velvety paw and
took me by the hand.
“And the young Mr. Garland — this is indeed
one great pleasure.”
I dropped his hand with a half shiver. The man
positively made me sick and I was not able to con-
ceal my aversion. Glancing up I noticed Victor
Jayne, standing on the other side of the room, in the
rear of Dora Wharton. Evidently Colonel Whar.
ton was the object of their solicitude — or want of
solicitude. I guessed rightly that they had been
making an effort to have him consent to the mar-
riage of the girl. I had no doubt the Brazilian was
back of it and that it was his final move in the des-
perate game he was playing
We were all aroused by the loud, cheery voice of
Doctor Henderson. He was greeting Colonel
Wharton and at the same time, in his own way, pre-


The Third Link
263
since he was stricken, lay back on his pillow for a
moment of luxurious relaxation. But the prosy
Collector continued as though he were addressing
the usual large and enthusiastic audience.
“You ask me why this is so and I tell you that it
is so because the diamond in question is an antique,
and antiques, under the generous and far-sighted
dispensation of our lawmakers, are free from duty."
I noticed that Dora Wharton listened to this ex-
planation with distended eyes and parted lips. It
was not difficult to imagine her feelings under the
circumstances. Surely she was thinking of the use-
less sacrifice she had made, of the hours of un-
necessary misery, and' of the whole train of bad
luck that had followed in the wake of the Red Dia-
mond. I wondered if she would look my way.
She did not. She stared at Collector Fread while
he was talking and after that dropped her eyes to
the floor. So far as I was concerned she did not
appear to know that I was in the room.
Oh! the unfathomable depths of a woman's heart !
The limitless extent of her faith and the unimagina-
ble ferocity of her resentment!
Jacquette had followed the words of Collector
Fread with absorbed interest. At first he seemed
incredulous, and after that the fleeting changes in
his face would have puzzled the most expert physi-


264
The Mystery of the Red Flame
ognomist. Victor Jayne listened with a sneer curl-
ing his thin lip, but the general effect of the an-
nouncement was one of profound relief. The at-
mosphere was cleared.
Evidently Doctor Henderson thought it was the
psychological moment to spring a second surprise.
He turned to the man on the bed.
“We have more news — news deeply affecting a
gentleman that has been stopping in this house."
I turned to see what effect this announcement
would have on Jules Jacquette. But he was not
present. He had evidently slipped from the room.
The good Doctor wanted me to accuse Victor Jayne
of lying in the conspiracy of the Red Diamond, but
I rightly thought that anything I might say would
be misunderstood and resented by Dora Wharton.
So the task was delegated to Burton Hapgood.
"I have here," began that gentleman with the air
of a conjurer who is about to pull a live rabbit out
of a high silk hat, “ a one-hundred-dollar bill. It
is numbered E-588.963.36. I mention this fact to
identify it as one of a number of similar bills that
were drawn from the bank by Colonel Wharton.
We have the proofs of that in black and white.
Colonel Wharton was buncoed out of this money
by a group of unprincipled swindlers. This money
we were able to trace to one of the bunch. He
W


266 The Mystery of the Red Flame
play. She wanted to help the under dog. She
spoke now with firmness and dignity :
" It seems to me that if you gentlemen have any-
thing against Mr. Jayne you are going the wrong
way about presenting it.”
The ferret-like eyes of the conspirator blinked;
he grasped at the straw thus presented.
“I was given a hundred-dollar bill as the result
of a business transaction with Colonel Wharton,"
he said, “but everything else that has been said is
false and I defy any of you to prove to the con-
trary.”
This was uttered with an air of injured innocence
which impressed the girl. She turned to the sick
man.
“Uncle, please tell me what you want me to
do.”
Wharton raised himself up on one elbow. His
eyes were glaring and he was in a state of great
excitement. He looked at Dora and then pointed a
lean finger at Jayne.
“Take — take — take — !” he cried in a chok-
ing, stammering tone, and then fell back on the pil-
low exhausted.
Doctor Henderson leaned over and felt his pulse.
Then he spoke in a confidential tone to Collector
Fread.


The Third Link
269
only one. Those words came from the lips of the
sick man with all the solemnity of a judgment.
The Colonel turned to Barnes and once more he in-
dicated Jayne.
“Take — take him away. The sight of the man
is more than I can bear. He is a rascal. He — he
is at the bottom of all my troubles ! ”
His head fell on his breast and he lurched over
on one side. Loving hands cared for him and in a
few moments he was lying on his back with his eyes
closed and a peaceful look on his face.
“Is — is it fatal?” whispered Collector Fread,
in an awed tone.
Doctor Henderson shook his head.
“ It's a crisis, but I'm sure it's a turn for the
better. I'm sure he will improve from this mo-
ment."
In the meanwhile things had been happening in
that stately old bedroom. Burton Hapgood stood
directly behind Victor Jayne while Colonel Whar-
ton was making his dramatic accusation and the
moment it was concluded he slipped a pair of hand-
cuffs around Jayne's unresisting wrists.
“They're real becoming to you," he grinned, as
he led the accused man down the stairway.
Doctor Henderson, smiling like a basket of chips,
had now resumed his most professional manner.


270 The Mystery of the Red Flame
“Gentlemen," he called out, as if nothing out of
the ordinary had occurred, “ you really must clear
the room. My patient needs quiet and rest.”
. We filed out of the apartment just as solemnly
as we had come in. At the doorway I paused to
take one last look. Dora Wharton stood at the
head of the bed, her pretty black head pillowed
upon the breast of Aunt Sarah, sobbing violently.
Was it joy? Was it grief? Or was it the natural
reaction that was to be expected after such a strain
upon her nerves ?
Once out in the sunlight I felt the friendly hand
of Bromley Barnes upon my shoulder.
"It's coming our way, Hugh,” he grinned.
“We've got the third link in that chain of evidence
— Johnson, Glazier, Jayne! Who will be the
next?”
I did not answer. I had my own belief, but I did
not wish to put it into words.


The Buried Treasure
273
heart, “I never doubted you from the start. Your
eyes are honest — that's all I needed.”
I am afraid my eyes were blurred at that moment,
but I managed to murmur:
“But her — but Dora —”
“ That,” interrupted the wise old soul, “must be
left to time. Who can tell ?”.
And she left me as noiselessly as she had come.
I was aroused by the voice of Bromley Barnes:
"Well, boy, are you going out to dig diamonds
or do you intend to spend the day dreaming?”
I started, guiltily. In my thought of Dora I had
almost forgotten the diamond. Less than a minute
had elapsed from the time we left the sickroom, but
in that time my mind had been going over all the
events of the past few days. I looked about hastily.
“Where's Hapgood?” I asked.
Barnes glanced at me curiously.
“Pull yourself together, son," he advised.
“ Hapgood's gone to the city with his prisoner.
We've got the three of them there now."
“ And Jacquette — where is he?”
The veteran made a wry face.
“He left the room while that séance was going
on. I don't know what's become of him. I hope
he hasn't skipped. He's the most important bird
of the whole flock.”


274 The Mystery of the Red Flame
Doctor Henderson joined us and we started in the
direction of the summer-house.
“I think I'm going to pull Wharton through,”
he said, in his professional way. “He's resting
quietly now. You chaps deserve credit for this.
You brought him good news, which, as I've often
said, is the best medicine any doctor can prescribe.”
"Quite true,” agreed Barnes, impatiently. “ But
let's get down to our digging."
The word seemed to remind the Doctor of some-
thing. A broad smile spread over his wholesome
countenance.
“ You fellows will need a spade," he said. “I'll
go and get one.”
He was very familiar with the place and while
he went in the direction of an out-house we waited
for him. He returned quickly with the implement.
“What you really need for this occasion," he
said, cheerily, “is a silver spade. It's going to be
a very important function and should be approached
in a ceremonious manner.”
We laughed at his little jest and proceeded on our
way. I looked around for Amy Smith, but she was
not in sight. Bromley Barnes must have had the
same thought in his mind, for he turned to me
abruptly.
“Where's the girl?”


The Buried Treasure
277
placid face of Bromley Barnes. The thought of the
prize prisoner of the Red Diamond case slipping
through his fingers was gall and wormwood to the
old man, but he did not say a word. As for my-
self, my feelings were beyond expression. I was
mortified, but I knew that I was primarily respon-
sible and that the case would not be complete until
the diamond was recovered and Jules Jacquette
placed behind prison doors. But while I was think-
ing the old lady was prattling.
“I looked everywhere, in the closets and the bu-
reau drawers, to see if he had left anything. But
there wasn't anything except these scraps of paper
in the waste basket. It looks like the fragments of
a telegraph slip and I thought I'd show it to
you."
Barnes snatched the little bits of yellow paper
from her hand and the next moment was down on
all fours on the porch, trying to piece them to-
gether. He made one combination and then an-
other, like a child playing with toy blocks. Finally
he gave a shout of triumph.
"I've got it - it's a telegram from the South
American Steamship Company informing Jacquette
that a berth has been reserved for him on the
Amazonian, which sails to-morrow morning.”
“The scoundrel!” ejaculated Doctor Henderson.


278
The Mystery of the Red Flame
My emotion was too great for words. I turned
to Barnes with a look of inquiry in my eyes.
“Well,” he answered, “ the first thing in order is
that diamond. After that we'll attend to the Brazil-
ian.”
“Was the telegram of any service to you?”
asked Aunt Sarah, timidly.
“It has been of great service,” replied Barnes,
with a gallant bow, “because it puts us on the track
of a very clever rascal.”
We started for the summer-house again and I
picked up the spade and began to dig. The sharp
edge of the implement sank into the soft earth
easily. It seemed almost too easy. I went at my
work lustily amid the cheering, bantering remarks
of my companions.
“ The minute your spade strikes a hard sub-
stance," said the doctor jocosely, “ you will know
that you have reached the hidden treasure.”
“There won't be any hard substance," I replied,
laughing, “because there isn't any tin box in this
case. Amy tells me that she put the diamond in a
chamois bag, about three feet below the surface.”
All the while I kept tossing spade after spade full
of earth on the side of the hole I was making. As
I progressed the interest became more intense. ·
Barnes, the Doctor and Aunt Sarah leaned over in


CHAPTER XXIII
I CHASE JULES JACQUETTE
BEFORE We had time to recover from our chagrin
and disappointment over this second disappearance
of the diamond we were startled by a moan from
the summer-house. I ran there and the sight that
met my gaze made me give a cry of horror. A
woman lay on the floor flat on her back and bound
and gagged. A second glance showed that it was
Amy Smith — the girl we thought had been recre-
ant to her trust.
I fell on my hands and knees and began to release
her. First I pulled the gag from her mouth — a
big red bandanna handkerchief, full of the odor of
musk. It did not require any further evidence to
tell who had been guilty of thus maltreating the
poor girl. The brutal Brazilian had left his trade-
mark, so to speak, in the shape of that vile-smelling
handkerchief. Next, I loosened the cords that
bound her hands and feet. They had been tied so
tight that the marks showed in the form of big, red
welts on her wrists.
280


I Chase Jules Jacquette
285
I nodded.
“Keep your eyes open on both sides of the road,”
I suggested. “We may be able to overtake him.”
Barnes smiled grimly.
“Not with the start he's got with that big tour-
ing car.”
The little gray car, however, proved to be some-
thing of a racer and in spite of the skepticism of the
old man I still hoped against hope that we might
catch the Brazilian. The only danger was the pos-
sibility that he might have gone in the opposite di-
rection. We put on all of the speed that was in the
machine and the landscape flitted by in bewildering
fashion. After we had gone about five miles I no-
ticed an Italian laborer sitting by the wayside mak-
ing a meal of bread and cheese. I pulled up in
order to question him.
“ Did you see a blue touring car pass here
lately?" I asked, and gave him a detailed descrip-
tion of Colonel Wharton's big machine.
He did not talk plain English, but by a series of
gesticulations he managed to make himself under-
stood. The one sentence that was clear was:
“ About twenty minutes, Signor, about twenty
minutes.”
We resumed our journey, but with the under-
standing that we should stop at the Wayside Inn,


286 The Mystery of the Red Flame
a road house about half way between Hedgewater
and the site of the House of a Hundred Keys. We
were under a severe strain. The thought of losing
the man after having him almost in our grasp was
intolerable. I longed for a word of encouragement
from the veteran by my side.
“Do you think we'll get him?" I asked, pres-
ently.
Barnes smiled grimly. He must have thought it
a foolish question. Nevertheless he replied in even
tones:
“ It all depends on how you look at it. Twenty
minutes is a long while. Dynasties have risen and
fallen in less than that time. On the other hand,
if Jacquette stops on the way he'll have little time to
spare.”
That satisfied me, and for a long time there was
silence. Presently the familiar outlines of the
Wayside Inn came into view. It looked deserted
on this bleak October day. The machine was
guided into the yard and we hurried over to the
porch and started on a hunt for the proprietor.
The more hurry the less speed. It seemed as if we
would never locate the fellow. But presently he
was found in the rear of the house, white-aproned
and smiling, superintending the unloading of a side
of beef.


I Chase Jules Jacquette
289
stayed here long he'd 'a' eat me out of house and
home. I had a cold chicken an' he devoured it.
Then I fried him a half dozen eggs and gave him a
lot of potatoes and rolls and he tops it off with three
cups of scaldin' coffee. Honest to goodness, that
fellow eat like a pig."
“ It was Jacquette, all right,” grinned Barnes.
“ But he wasn't stingy," protested the landlord.
“ He gave me a five-dollar bill and told me to keep
the change."
“ Colonel Wharton's money," I groaned.
“How long was he here?" asked Barnes.
“Oh, about fifteen minutes. He just bolted his
grub and then he jumped into the car and hurried
off again.”
“What direction did he take?”
“That way," pointed the man. “Straight for
the city.”
We jumped into the little gray machine and once
more started on the trail of Jules Jacquette. Both
of us felt more hopeful than we had before the in-
terview with the proprietor of the Wayside Inn. It
was evident, also, that our minds were on the same
thing. It was Barnes who expressed it.
“ Some feeder," he grunted, " that Brazilian.”
I nodded assent.
“ The ruling passion is strong even in a great


290 The Mystery of the Red Flame
crisis. His devotion to his stomach is almost start-
ling. I noticed it while I was at Hedgewater
House. I believe if his life was in jeopardy he
would risk it for a square meal."
“Well,” laughed the veteran," he's certainly
risked his liberty.”
Mile after mile was covered, but still we did not
overtake Jacquette. The little gray car was doing
nobly, and in a long run I felt it might be depended
upon to beat Colonel Wharton's big blue touring
car. I was thinking of this when a sudden turn in
the road revealed an obstruction in our path. I had
just time to put on the brakes and halt the machine.
We looked at the mass of wreckage and then gazed
significantly at one another.
And no wonder, for the obstacle in our way was
the Colonel's fine touring car.
It was lying on one side and was badly smashed.
We looked around, half expecting to find the Brazil-
ian's body in the road. But it was not there. The
wreck had occurred in a narrow part of the road
and it took time to move it sufficiently to permit of
the passage of the small car.
Five minutes later we resumed our thrice inter-
rupted journey, speculating on the cause of the ac-
cident and wondering if Jacquette had gone ahead
on foot. We finally concluded that the sharp turn


CHAPTER XXIV
THE RED FLAME AGAIN
I APPROACHED the house cautiously. My first
thought was to look for the Customs Inspector who
had been placed on guard at the abode of mystery.
I made my way about the dwelling very carefully,
but no one was in sight. One of two things had
happened. Either Jacquette had encountered the
guard and vanquished him or the man was neglect-
ing his duty. I recalled the incident when one of
our inspectors who had been sent to capture an
opium smuggler had been found fast asleep on top
of a box of opium, all unconscious of the character
of his improvised bed.
It did not take me long to conclude that some-
thing of the kind had happened in this case. Tiring
of his long vigil, the inspector had, no doubt, de-
cided to take a day off. At all events he was not
to be found.
There was a high wind blowing at the time and
it sent the dead leaves scurrying around the house
with a suggestiveness that made my flesh creep.
293


The Red Flame Again
295
If so, I have yet to discover it. I don't profess to
have less personal courage than the average mortal,
but I must confess that the excitement of the pre-
vious twenty-four hours, and the deathly stillness
of that house, were beginning to get on my nerves.
If there had been the slightest evidence of life —
a ray of sunlight, a dog or a cat, or even a growing
plant — I could have thrown off the dread that
seemed to enfold me like a garment.
Standing there in the center of that old-fashioned
parlor, stretching my hands out into space with the
helplessness of a blind man, I was suddenly filled
with a desire to quit the house and await the ar-
rival of Bromley Barnes. But the thought of be-
ing considered a coward arrested my impulse. I
stamped my foot on the floor with a vigor that
raised the dust and cried :
“I won't quit; I won't!”
The mere physical part of the business restored
me to my normal self. The fear left me. The
blood coursed through my veins as freely as ever
and I was prepared for any adventure that might
offer itself.
My resolve now was to make a tour of the house
and to look in every room in the hope and expecta-
tion of finding the Brazilian. I felt he must be in
the house, else why that unlocked door? He might


296
The Mystery of the Red Flame
have been there and gone, but the time was so short
that such a thing seemed impossible. Could he
have heard me come in? Had I betrayed myself
by that stamp of the foot on the floor? The only
way to get an answer was to proceed with my
search.
I felt in my hip pocket and was reassured by
touching the pistol I had placed there on leaving
the Custom House. I am not a blood-thirsty man.
I have a special abhorrence of a pistol. It seems
such a cowardly thing. But when I started out I
realized the dangerous character of my mission and
I was prepared, in case of necessity, to fight the
devil with fire. Thus fortified, I slowly made my
way around the lower part of the house. My prog-
ress was both difficult and easy. Difficult from the
fact that I could not see where I was going, and
easy because the place was so cluttered with smug-
gled goods that the only way one could walk was
through the lanes or alleyways provided for the pur-
pose.
Presently I found myself in the dining-room. A
chink in the shutter of one of the windows let a
ray of sunlight into the apartment, and it made a
slanting illumination in striking contrast with the
gloom of the rest of the room. I managed to get
an idea of this part of the house, which was fur-


300 The Mystery of the Red Flame
with great care. The next instant the room was
filled with the heavy odor of musk.
It is curious to think of the effect of that scent
upon my nerves. It offended my sense of smell.
and filled me with a wild desire to fight the man, no
matter what might be the outcome. His cold and
calculating manner only increased my irritation.
There he was, like a professional burglar, examin-
ing the stuff with an appraising eye and calmly de-
ciding what he should take away with him.
After a while he straightened up with the air of
a man who has finished his task and is preparing
to take his leave. And then, as if by an after-
thought he put his hand in his vest pocket and pulled
out a little package. It was wrapped in tissue paper
and he slowly unwound it until it lay bare in his
hands. He held it between his thumb and fore-
finger and looked at it exultingly. The flickering
rays of the candle happened to strike it and pro-
duced an answering flash that seemed to illuminate
the room.
It was the Red Diamond — the Star of the South
- around which all of the adventures of the pre-
ceding day had clustered!
My impulse was to rush in and grab it from his
insolent hand. But sober second thought came to
the rescue and bade me proceed with caution. I


The Red Flame Again
303
He turned his back to the dining-room and began
to retreat in that direction. All this time I kept the
muzzle of the revolver near the tip of his nose
and followed him. He must have felt surprised
that I should permit him to move even toward the
dining-room. But in a subconscious way I had a
motive. Like a general on the eve of battle, I de-
cided to pick out the spot where the conflict would
take place. It is true that I possessed a pistol and
had Jacquette at a disadvantage, but I knew enough
of the fellow to realize that he would not sur-
render without a struggle. As he got to the cen-
ter of the room he put the candle on the table and
made a mocking bow.
“And now, will Monsieur Garland explain the
purpose of his visit? ”.
“ Monsieur Garland doesn't have to," I answered
irritably. “You know well enough why I'm here."
“ Ah,” he said, still smirking, “ Monsieur jumps
at conclusions. This is one of the faults in this
great and glorious country. But let me assure Mon-
sieur Garland that I am entirely in the dark regard-
ing the purpose of his presence here and that I
cannot understand why he should point that ugly
weapon at the poor heart of Jules Jacquette.”
If any one had told me that I would be standing
in the dining-room of the House of the Hundred


The Red Flame Again
305
“ You know very well what I mean— the Red
Diamond you stole from the museum in South
America. The diamond you tried to sell to Colonel
Wharton. The diamond you have in your vest
pocket.”
“Ah!” and the words slipped from him uncon-
sciously, “So you've been spying again — it's
becoming quite a habit with you, Mr. Detec-
tive.”
I was furious.
“Give me that diamond,” I cried, “or by
Heavens I'll shoot you on the spot!”
It is difficult to describe exactly what happened
during the next few seconds. All I remember is
that the smirking smile faded from his face and
gave way to a look of hate, and that his right foot
suddenly ascended and kicked the pistol out of my
hand. The weapon struck the floor and exploded,
the bullet whizzing past my ear and burying itself
in the side wall of the dining-room.
The thing happened so quickly that I hardly had
time to think, but the next moment we found our-
selves glaring at one another from opposite sides
of the dining-room table. The cold eyes of the
Brazilian were blazing and he spoke in short, sup-
pressed jerks, with all of the suavity of his manner
gone.


The Red Flame Again
307
off my tie and collar. We were both breathing
heavily and the next thing I realized we were locked
in a bear-like embrace. The fight abruptly turned
into a wrestling match and in this respect he seemed
to have the better of me. Over and over on the
floor we rolled, upsetting chairs and everything
that came in our way. We went from one side
of the room to the other and presently the big table
was overturned with a crash. I do not know how
long this lasted, but after awhile we separated and
found ourselves panting at opposite sides of the
room.
It was a truce — for a few moments. We were
both trying to get our breath and our strength
before resuming hostilities. I do not know how he
felt, but I am sure that I was resolved to get him or
die in the attempt. The candle had been upset
and extinguished and the room was in darkness,
all except that streak of blessed sunlight which
streamed in from the hole made by the broken
shutter. I looked down along the sunbeam and
caught sight of something on the floor,— a some-
thing that made me gasp.
It was the Red Diamond! The glint of sunshine
touched its many facets and caused a brilliancy
which cannot be described in words.— It was a red
flame! It was a crimson pool. The sight of that


310
The Mystery of the Red Flame
The Brazilian gave an unexpected twist of the wrist
and sent me staggering away from him. He fol-
lowed me and struck me on the head with the
candlestick.
For an instant the room seemed flooded with
light, and then came darkness, and I fell to the
floor unconscious.


Jacquette's Story
313
fession. It beats anything that's ever come under
my notice. The conceit of the fellow is colossal
and it sticks out of every page of this statement."
Before Barnes would permit me to see the re-
markable document he consulted the Doctor. That
tyrant at first refused to let me read the thing, but
he reconsidered his decision when Barnes assured
him that the sight of the paper would hasten my
recovery. They had a great time propping me up
in bed and arranging the light so that it would
shine over my left shoulder. Then, and not until
then, Barnes handed me the confession. It was
written in ink, on foolscap paper, and in fine hand-
writing, almost copperplate in its perfection. It
was addressed to the Secretary of State in grandilo-
quent terms.
“I— Jules Jacquette,” it began, “have been
making history — international history. In the in-
terests of truth, justice and my own fame, I here-
with set down the exact facts in connection with the
famous diamond popularly known as the Star of
the South.
“I do this willingly because it will make more
certain the punishment of three spineless creatures
who were associated with me in this enterprise and
also because it will tell, as no other pen could tell,
the magnitude of the business, the risks that were


314
The Mystery of the Red Flame
involved, the strategy employed and the courage
displayed in the undertaking, which would have
been a brilliant success if it had not been for the
inquisitiveness and the interference of one man.
“I refer, of course, to M. Garland.
“I have some very decided opinions concern-
ing that young man, but time presses and I must not
be diverted from the main purposes of this paper —
a paper which is intended for the files of both the
American Secretary of State and the Brazilian For-
eign Minister, and is thus destined to become an
historical document.
“At the outset I may say that I was engaged in
smuggling ventures with John Johnson, the steward
of the Dom Pedro, Hartley Glazier, the diamond
dealer, and Victor Jayne, ne'er-do-well, for many
years. These schemes were profitable to us and
we smuggled on such a scale that it was necessary
for Glazier, as the resident partner, to secure a
place to keep the stuff. It was thus that he came
to secure the house on the city line, the place which
I have since heard designated as the House of a
Hundred Keys.
“But it was in the early part of the present year
that I conceived my grand scheme and then all else
seemed petty in comparison. Everybody in Brazil
knows the history of the Red Diamond. Nearly


Jacquette's Story
315
everybody knew that the half of it which is owned
by the Government was kept in a glass case in the
National Museum at Rio Janeiro. Tens of thou-
sands — aye, hundreds of thousands — of persons
have gazed on that precious gem and wished that
it might be theirs.
“Of all that number only one man had the brains
to conceive and the cleverness to execute a plan
by which the wish became a reality. That man
was myself — Jules Jacquette, the writer of these
lines, who is compelled to burst forth in honest ad-
miration of his own genius!
“ The plan was simplicity itself. I knew the
night guard of the museum, a faithful old soul,
who was in the habit of taking the air in the even-
ing seated in an arm chair in front of the grilled
gate which opens on Isabella Avenue. I passed
there one night and graciously offered him a pack-
age of cigarettes which had been especially imported
from Turkey. He smoked one, two and then three
of those famous concoctions. After that the faith-
ful one was oblivious of all that went on for the
next thirty minutes. The cigarettes had been
heavily drugged and as he inhaled each separate
whiff he drew into his mouth and expelled from
his nostrils the delicious but stupefying opium
which was to cost the Government of Brazil the


Jacquette's Story
317
America, who had been spending a few weeks in
Brazil before going on to his post at Washing-
ton, was to sail on the Dom Pedro. I knew very
well that his trunks and those of the members of
his staff would be passed through the Custom House
without examination. Also I discovered the char-
acter and appearance of his trunks, and I had one
made to correspond with them. I knew that the
Spanish coat-of-arms on the side of the trunks was
their distinguishing mark and I, myself, Jules Jac-
quette — placed it on what has since been called
the thirteenth trunk.
“So far so good. On the day of sailing I had
my steamer trunk — covered with canvas — placed
in my stateroom. On the day we landed in the
United States I had that same piece of baggage,
with the guilty assistance of the steward of the
Dom Pedro, placed with the belongings of the Span-
ish Ambassador. How easily it went through and
how I afterwards secured possession of it is already
well known, especially to your distinguished Mr.
Bromley Barnes.
“To have stolen the Red Diamond from the
museum at Rio was in itself a memorable achieve-
ment. To have successfully smuggled such a re-
markable gem into the United States was almost as
wonderful. That precious stone represented a


318
The Mystery of the Red Flame
fortune. Its value could scarcely be calculated in
dollars. And now a third idea, which had been
slowly revolving in my brain from the start, came
to a head.
“I resolved that this adventure of the Red Dia-
mond should be my own personal enterprise — in
a word, I decided that not a penny of the pro-
ceeds should be shared with the three lunkheads —
is not that one of your admirable American words?
— who had been associated with me in petty smug-
gling.
“Why not? Could any one of them have even
thought of such a thing? The idea is absurd !
Could any one of them have carried it out? The
suggestion is preposterous! And, as far as the
ethics of the business go, I knew I had many dis-
tinguished precedents. You may remind me of the
old proverb concerning honor among thieves. I
say, bah! And I repeat it three times. There is
no such word as honor in the thieves' vocabulary.
I- Jules Jacquette — would dispose of the Red
Diamond and the proceeds would keep me in luxury
in some far off part of the world for the rest of
my life. It was a beautiful dream, worthy of me.
I would be a retired rascal!
“Having come to a decision in this respect the
next question was how I should dispose of the dia-


Jacquette's Story
319
mond. That was not easily answered. Its very
size was against it. And, besides that, it would
surely be recognized by any diamond expert. I
considered the idea of taking it to some cutter and
having it divided into three or four smaller stones.
But that notion was dismissed almost as quickly as
it came to my mind. What was the use of it all if
I did not benefit on a big scale ?
“At this stage of my adventure I was fortunate
enough — or unfortunate enough if you choose —
to meet Victor Jayne. He was on the same boat
with me. Indeed, it looked as if an evil Fate had
decided that he should be there for my purposes. I
knew him as a second-rate thief. He had engaged
with us in the smuggling business, but I did not
consider his abilities of a very high order. One
night we talked of gems and he mentioned the fact
that he was going to visit an American gentleman
- Colonel Wharton of Hedgewater — who was an
enthusiastic collector of precious stones. It seems
that he had met the Whartons on a European trip
and that they had given him a standing invitation
to visit their home.
“I could have shouted with joy. It was the
very thing I needed. It was necessary therefore
that I should take Jayne into my confidence. I told
him about the diamond and said he must introduce


Jacquette's Story
321
besides myself, knew about the Star of the South
I had no thought of dividing with these carrion,
but when four persons possess a Secret, can it any
longer be regarded as a Secret? However, there
was nothing to do except to take chances. I pro-
ceeded at once to Hedgewater House in the com-
pany of Victor Jayne, who was to be my spon-
sor.
“I found Colonel Wharton to be a gentleman of
the old school, sane on everything except diamonds.
When he learned that I had a valuable stone he
treated me like a king, but when he discovered that
the diamond was the famous Star of the South he
almost lost his reason. It would have been pathetic
if it had not been so tragic. I knew from that mo-
ment I had the man in my power. He did not
know the diamond had been stolen; he did not know
it had been smuggled. But he did know there was
something queer about the business and he was
willing to close his eyes to the truth. I— Jules
Jacquette — do not make this as an accusation
against the gentleman who has been so desperately
ill. I merely state it as a fact.
“I was perfectly sure that he would do anything,
risk anything, to possess that diamond. Note how
everything in this remarkable adventure played into
my hands. The watchman at the museum in Rio,


322 The Mystery of the Red Flame
W
the steward of the Dom Pedro, the meeting with
Jayne on the boat, his willingness to present me to
Colonel Wharton and now my discovery that Whar-
ton was a fanatic, a madman, on diamonds.
“ It did not take us long to get down to terms.
Wharton paid me five thousand dollars cash with a
promise of one hundred thousand dollars additional
as soon as he could get rid of some bonds he
owned. That, if it had gone through, would have
been a snug nest egg for me. On the other hand,
if the transaction had been completed, Wharton
would have possessed a priceless diamond for a
mere handful of bonds !
“But the course of business, like the course of
true love, does not always run smooth. My accom-
plices were suspicious of me. They were more than
that. Each one, separately, would have resorted
to any crime to have become the owner of the Red
Diamond. That cursed Glazier was the most try-
ing of all. He haunted Hedgewater House, creep-
ing around the grounds in his gray suit and watch-
ing for an opportunity of stealing the diamond.
Few rascals are to be trusted, but he was the most
untrustworthy of all. I was besieged, and if such
a word be permissible in this connection, black-
mailed. It ended, for the time being, by my giving
each of them five hundred dollars to keep their in-


324 The Mystery of the Red Flame
that fact, in itself, did not disturb me. I felt equal
to all of them. I — Jules Jacquette — snapped my
fingers at the whole pack.
“The real trouble began through the vanity of
Colonel Wharton. We were discussing famous
diamonds one night and before any one realized
what he was doing he had the Star of the South out
and was exhibiting it to his visitors. I did not like
that at all. I feared for the precious stone. I go
so far as to admit that I thought M. Garland might
steal it. Little did I think that his presence in the
house was for the express purpose of recovering the
gem. Anyhow, everybody was on edge and I went
to bed that night wishing that I had the hundred
thousand dollars in my pocket so that I might leave
for foreign shores and live luxuriously the life of a
retired rascal. When I arose next morning the
expected had happened.
“ The Red Diamond had been stolen!
“From that moment until my sudden departure
from the house I was as much mystified as any one
at Hedgewater. Of course I have since learned
that Glazier sent Miss Dora a warning letter, that
she took the diamond from the safe at midnight,
that Glazier stole it from her room, only to drop it
in his flight and that it was picked up and buried by
Amy Smith. But at the time I was 'wandering in


Jacquette's Story
325
a fog of doubt and mystery. All this time I was
becoming more and more distrustful of Garland.
And now I was afraid that I might never get the
hundred thousand dollars from Colonel Wharton.
May I be permitted a bit of playful irony at this
point. It is but a simple remark:
"I did not get the hundred thousand dollars!
“In this crisis I threw an anchor to the wind-
ward, as has been so classically expressed by one of
your eminent American statesmen. The diamond
was gone! The money was not forthcoming! I
was in no position to make an outcry. Suddenly I
bethought myself of Miss Dora. That stick of a
Jayne had been paying her attention. I resolved
that he should marry her. She was likely to be the
heiress of her uncle. With Jayne as her husband I
could have a constant source of income. He was
like putty in my hands. Unfortunately, being a
putty man, he lacked the power of initiative. I had
to do everything. I had to think and act; to con-
ceive and execute. Wharton was in mortal fear of
me. The discovery that the diamond had been
smuggled scared him stiff. The threat of an ex-
posure was my weapon. I pleaded Jayne's cause
with him. He said he would consent to the mar-
riage, but only on condition that it was agreeable to
Dora. She, on her side, was made to understand


326
The Mystery of the Red Flame
that on the marriage depended the honor and repu-
tation, if not the liberty, of her uncle. It would
have been difficult, from our standpoint, to have
had a more desirable situation.
“ But there was one obstacle, and it was Gar-
land. I am not blind, and it did not take me long
to discover that Garland and Dora had fallen in
love with one another. This was embarrassing.
Women, not being reasoning creatures, are more
apt to follow the dictates of the heart than the
mind. I gave much thought to this perplexing
thing. An attempt to interfere with their love
affair might only make both of them more deter-
mined. At this point something occurred that
solved the difficulty for me with the ease with which
the snow disappears before rays of the noonday
sun. The 'something' was my discovery that
Garland was a detective — a special agent of the
United States Treasury Department. I learned
this by accidentally hearing him making a report to
his superior over the telephone.
“The discovery, in a way, was startling. It
spelled danger for me. Yet instantly it showed me
a way out of the difficulty. I knew that Miss
Dora was aware of the danger in which her uncle
had placed himself. My scheme was to get rid of
Garland and force the marriage of Jayne and the


Jacquette's Story
327
girl at one and the same time. So I coached Jayne
and set the stage for a dramatic encounter. It
worked out to the queen's taste. Jayne denounced
Garland as a spy and he was compelled to leave the
house and my man was enabled to press his suit
with some hope of success. But please remember
that Jayne was not responsible for this clever move.
" It originated in my mind — the mind of Jules
Jacquette — and Jayne was a puppet in my hands!
“But if I thought it was all plain sailing now I
was mistaken. I heard that the steward of the
Dom Pedro had been arrested, and on top of that
came the news that the theft of the diamond from
the National Museum at Rio had been discovered.
The announcement struck Colonel Wharton speech-
less. That, in its way, helped me, because I think
he had reached a point where he was willing to
make a clean breast of the whole business. As it
was, I tried to hasten the marriage between Jayne
and Miss Dora. Doctor Henderson, a busybody
friend of the Whartons, helped to postpone this,
but I believe that if I had been given ten minutes
more I could have brought it about.
“ Consider how the destinies of the individual,
no less than the destiny of nations, sometimes
hinges upon a few seconds of time!
“We were around the bedside of Colonel Whar-


Jacquette's Story
329
I merely say that if it had not been for outside in-
terference I should have won the battle. I had the
better of the bantam when his superior, Bromley
Barnes, came in and I had to yield to that tyrant
of the ages — the Law.
“I have completed my story, and I leave it to
ring down the corridors of time. I have accom-
plished a two-fold purpose. I have made it cer-
tain that those petty criminals — Johnson, Glazier
and Jayne — shall not escape the punishment which
is due them. They were accomplices in the legal
sense of the term, but the glory and the credit for
the remarkable adventures belong to Jules Jac-
quette, and to Jules Jacquette alone. I merely em-
balm them in the amber of my tale. I rest content
in the knowledge that my own fame is sure — that
I shall be immortalized among the celebrated crim-
inals of history. I am done! Let the law take
its course!”
The pages of this amazing narrative fluttered
from my fingers, a narrative combining the conceit
and the cleverness of this most unusual Brazilian
rascal. I was worn out from the exertion of sitting
up and absorbing this strange tale, and I fell back
on my pillow exhausted.


I am Forgiven
331
for this district, and I have been given a two weeks'
leave of absence with pay."
“Fine,” I said, “ you deserve it — and more,
too."
“What about yourself?” he asked, with a
shrewd look in his bright eyes.
“Oh,” I said, laughing, “I have the conscious-
ness of duty performed.”
He turned to the nurse.
“I guess it's time to let them in — we won't
keep him in suspense any longer.”
I looked eagerly in the direction of the doorway
and as I did so Collector Fread and Burton Hap-
good entered the room. They both shook hands
with me cordially and then the Collector, assuming
his most magisterial air, turned to the solemn-look-
ing one.
“ The document, Hapgood!”
The tall, thin detective put his hand in his coat
pocket with the air of a funeral director about to
read the names of the friends and relatives, and
produced an official looking roll of paper. Collec-
tor Fread, adjusting the tortoise-shell glasses on
his nose, started to read the document. As he
proceeded the meaning of it all dawned upon
me.
I had been appointed Chief of the Division of


332 The Mystery of the Red Flame
Special Agents of the Treasury Department, with
headquarters at Washington.
Bromley Barnes was the first to grasp my hand.
I looked at him with tear-dimmed eyes.
“ You should have had that,” I managed to stam-
mer. “It was you —”.
“ Nonsense,” was the reply, with an infectious
laugh, “there isn't any job in the Government
service that could tempt me. I'm going to retire
and I'm only too glad that you're getting the
place.”
“The appointment," commented the Collector,
“was made upon the recommendation of Bromley
Barnes.”
The veteran made a great ado of bustling around
the room at that moment and before I could say
anything more Doctor Henderson was ushered into
the room. His wholesome countenance was a cure
for tired eyes and I told him so. He laughed at
that and returned the compliment by saying that he
had faith in me from the outset and was delighted
to know that his faith had been rewarded.
“How is Colonel Wharton?” I asked.
“Fine as silk. He's going away to the seashore
for a long rest, and I expect to bring him home as
good as new. He's decided to cut out all of his
nonsense about precious stones and will offer his



“'THE DEAREST WISH OF MY LIFE ... HAS BEEN TO LIVE
IN WASHINGTON""





A third CHEERFUL BOOK
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Mark
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SYLVIA ARDEN DECIDES
By Margaret R. Piper
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A Sequel to “Sylvia's Experiment: The Cheerful Book "
and “Sylvia of the Hill Top"
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Mark
Illustrated, decorative jacket, $1.35; carriage paid,
$1.50
s so
In the original CHEERFUL BOOK, with its rippling
play of incident, Sylvia proved herself a bringer of :
tidings of great joy to many people. In the second 8
book devoted to her adventures, she was a charming
heroine — urbane, resourceful and vivacious — with an 8
Řadded shade of picturesqueness due to her environ-
ment. In this third story Sylvia is a little older grown,
deep in the problem of just-out-of-college adjustment
X to the conditions of the “wide, wide world,” and in the :
process of learning, as she puts it,“ to live as deep and
quick as I can.” The scene of the new story is laid
partly at Arden Hall and partly in New York and, in
her sincere effort to find herself, Sylvia finds love in
real fairy tale fashion.
“There is a world of human nature, and neighbor-
hood contentment and quaint, quiet humor in Mar- 8
garet R. Piper's books of good cheer. Her tales are
well proportioned and subtly strong in their literary
aspects and quality.” — North American, Philadelphia.
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