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Updated: June 8, 2025
Come along, now; don't make any trouble." Fairly drunk with excitement, his lean face, usually expressionless, now flushed and working strangely, and his beady black eyes aglitter, Mr. Czenki reeled into the study where Mr. Latham and Mr. Schultze sat awaiting Mr. Birnes.
She has been accustomed to hearing from her grandfather at least once a day by telephone, but she was unable to get an answer either yesterday or to-day, so she came to my home, and together we came out here." Mr. Birnes looked up quickly. It had suddenly occurred to him to wonder as to the whereabouts of Claflin and Sutton, who had been on watch at the Thirty-seventh Street house.
Past Sixty-fourth Street, Sixty-fifth, Sixty-sixth, and at Sixty-seventh it slowed up and halted at the sidewalk on the far side. "Stop in front of a door, Jimmy," directed the detective hastily. Jimmy obeyed gracefully, and Mr. Birnes stepped out, hardly half a block behind the closed cab. He went through an elaborate pretense of paying Jimmy, the while he regarded Mr.
Latham, harried by the events of the past two hours, bewildered by a hundred-million-dollar diamond deal which had been thrust down his throat gracefully, but none the less certainly, and ridden by the keenest curiosity, was delighted to see Mr. Birnes. "I've got his house address all right," Mr. Birne boasted, in the beginning.
They spent only a moment here, then passed into the narrow hall, along this to a door that stood open, and then then Chief Arkwright paused, staring downward, and respectfully lifted his hat. "Always the same," he remarked enigmatically. Mr. Birnes thrust himself forward and through the door. On the floor, with white face turned upward, and fixed, staring eyes, lay an old man.
There was that in the thin, scarred face and in the beady black eyes which inevitably drew the attention of a stranger, and half a dozen times as he talked Mr. Birnes glanced at the expert.
Birnes stared thoughtfully across the street for a little while. So there was a woman in it! Mr. Wynne had transferred the contents of the gripsack to her, in a cab, on a crowded thoroughfare, right under his nose! "I was a little farther down the line there," Johns went on to explain. "About a quarter of four o'clock, I guess, she came along.
Again he faced the tramp: "Haney, do you know how much the diamonds you had were worth?" "Must 'a' been three or four hundred dollars." "Something like fifty thousand dollars," Mr. Birnes informed him impressively; "and if you got fifty thousand dollars for your share the other man got a million." Haney only stared. Half an hour later Mr.
Claflin, across the street, understood from that that he was to go on up Fifth Avenue to Thirty-fourth Street, the next intersection, and turn west to board any crosstown car which Mr. Wynne might possibly take; and a cabby, who had been sitting motionless on his box down the street, understood from it that he was to move slowly along behind Mr. Birnes, and be prepared for an emergency.
The newspapers were unanimously certain that stones of such value could not rightfully belong to a man of Haney's type, therefore, to whom did they belong? Four men, at least, of the thousands who read the detailed account of the affair Sunday morning, immediately made it a matter of personal interest to themselves. One of these was Mr. Latham, another was Mr. Schultze, and a third was Mr. Birnes.
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