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Updated: June 6, 2025
"Ah, here's Frank Garside," he continued, espying another rustic acquaintance. "Halloa, Frank, I'll come over one day next week, and try for a fox in Easington Woods. We missed the last, you know. Tom Brockholes, are you here? Just ridden over from Sladeburne, eh? When is that shooting match at the bodkin to come off, eh? Mind, it is to be at twenty-two roods' distance.
Everything, it seemed, went smoothly with rhythmic regularity, and though it is possible that a good many Englishmen would have regarded Garside Scar as a very second-rate country house, and seen in Major Radcliffe and his wife nothing more than a somewhat prosy old soldier and a withered lady, old-fashioned in her dress and views, this Westerner had what was, perhaps, a clearer vision.
Still, watching her companion covertly, she understood that this man whom she had seen for the first time three days ago had done exactly what she would have expected of him. Then she proceeded to give him the information she supposed he desired. "I saw a good deal of Lance Radcliffe when I was younger," she said. "His people still live at Garside Scar, close by Dufton Holme.
"He merely left the order and asked that the diamonds should be sent here at once." "What sort of a man?" "Dark, about fifty, with a heavy mustache and wavy hair," said Chick, glibly. "Quite a big fellow, Hafferman states." "H'm!" ejaculated Nick, with a significant nod. "Now, Mr. Garside, describe the man to whom you delivered the diamonds." "Raymond?" "If that is the name he gave you."
She possesses a magnificent collection of jewels, and wears them with an abandon against which I frequently have cautioned her." "By way of explanation," put in Mr. Garside, with an odd smile, "Venner might add that he enjoys quite friendly relations with the Spanish señora."
"Well," he said, with an air of reflection, "you'll probably have to face a good deal that you don't like out yonder, and in one way you won't suffer from a little preparatory training. This, however, is not a case where sentimental pity is likely to relieve anybody. It's the real thing." "I think I told you at Garside Scar that I haven't lived altogether in luxury!" she replied.
You have been duped swindled robbed of four thousand dollars' worth of gems! Raymond was an impostor a crook " "Venner hush! You are losing your head," protested Garside, white with dismay. "It's enough that we have lost the stones, so at least keep your head. Waste not a moment. Notify the police. Telephone at once for men from the central office." "Blast the police!
"But we decided that New York was the best field for such a gigantic enterprise," added Kilgore. "So we came here. With the help of Cervera, we got our grip on Venner, and then on his avaricious partner, Garside, whose business happened to be on its last legs.
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