Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 8, 2025
Birnes opened the door of the closed cab and glanced in. Perhaps there might be a stray glove, a handkerchief, some more definite clew than this vague description. He scrutinized the inside of the vehicle carefully; there was nothing. Yes, by Jingo, here was something a white streak under the edge of the cushion on the seat! Mr. Birnes' hopeful fingers fished it out.
Wynne in sight, so he came down the steps and walked rapidly on to Sixty-seventh Street, pausing to peer around the corner before he turned. Mr. Wynne was idling along, half a block away, without the slightest apparent interest in what was happening behind. Inevitably Mr. Birnes' eyes were drawn to the water-plug across the street. A tag end of white paper gleamed tantalizingly.
Birnes went on to explain, "but the trap was set and there was no escape." With certain minor omissions he told of the cab ride to Sixty-seventh Street, the trip across to a downtown car, and, as a matter of convincing circumstantial detail, added the incident of the empty gripsack. "Empty?" repeated Mr. Latham, startled. "Empty, did you say?"
Now what the deuce did it mean? Being only human, Mr. Birnes went across the street and got the paper. It was an envelope. As he unfolded it and gazed at the address, written in pencil, his mouth opened in undignified astonishment. It was addressed to him Steve Birnes, Chief of the Birnes Detective Agency. Mr.
Jimmy turned the cab short and went rattling away down Fifth Avenue to await orders in the lee of a corner a block or so away. And, meanwhile, as Mr. Wynne still stood on the corner, Mr. Birnes had to go on up the steps. But as he placed his foot on the third step he knew though he had not looked, apparently, yet he knew that Mr.
And that you would accept a statement of his as correct?" "Yes," the chief agreed with a glance at Mr. Birnes. "Mr. Birnes, where was I all day Saturday?" Mr. Wynne queried, without so much as looking around at him. "You were in your house from eleven o'clock Friday night until fifteen minutes of nine o'clock Saturday morning," was the response.
"Well, what do you know about it?" inquired Chief Arkwright abruptly. Mr. Wynne was himself again instantly the calm, self-certain perfectly poised young man of affairs. He glanced at the chief, then shot a quick, inquiring look at Mr. Czenki. Almost imperceptibly the diamond expert shook his head. Then Mr. Wynne's eyes turned upon Mr. Birnes.
Birnes admitted with an uncertain nod "that is, so far as my instructions go. I understood, though, that the diamonds were worth more than sixty thousand dollars; in fact, that there might have been a million dollars' worth of them." "A million dollars!" repeated Chief Arkwright in amazement. "A million dollars!" he repeated. He turned fiercely upon Mr. Wynne. "What about that?" he demanded.
Heavy or thin?" Haney considered that thoughtfully for a moment before he answered. Then: "Sort o' medium nose, Boss, with a point on it." "And a thin face, naturally. How much did he weigh?" "Oh, he was a little feller skinny, you know. I reckon he didn't weigh no more'n a hundred an' twenty-five or thirty." Some germ had been born in the fertile mind of Mr. Birnes; now it burst into maturity.
He saw him pay his fare, and then he saw him place the small sole-leather grip on his knees and unfasten the catch. Not knowing what was in that grip Mr. Birnes was curious to see what came out of it. Nothing came out of it it was empty! There was no question of this, for Mr. Wynne opened it wide and turned it upside down to shake it out. It didn't mean anything in particular to Mr.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking