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Updated: June 7, 2025
Upon the dark cloth top of the table between them lay two large diamonds, declared by Pylotte to have been artificially made, the two with which he claimed to have been swindled. Yet to the eyes of a layman they had all the qualities of natural gems, gleaming and glistening with magnificent fire in the cheerful sunlight of Nick's library.
It was only when she told us about Pylotte, and the secret process by which he makes such extraordinary imitations, that we could believe her." "That's right, Dave." "She had stumbled by chance upon this clever French chemist and diamond cutter, and was working him to the extent of her ability.
"And one that could be made very profitable, perhaps?" "I judge so." "Put up your revolver," said Nick, abruptly. "What's that black object you dropped just now?" Pylotte glanced down at his feet, then laughed faintly. "That's odd," said he. "It's a piece of coal. I must have seized it from the road, thinking to defend myself with it." "What is there odd in that?" Pylotte laughed again.
"I'll close that saucy trap of yours, at all events," sneered Kilgore. "Give me that gag, Matt quick." Nick no longer resisted. A glance at the clock on the mantel told him that nearly ten minutes had passed since he left Chick. He suffered himself to be gagged, then raised to his feet, from which Pylotte now cast the line and emerged from under the table.
"You will find it's not impossible, Rufe," she retorted. "I generally go where I wish, and do what I undertake. I have already sent my own jewels and other valuables there by Pylotte. He was here this morning." "But consider, Sanetta," protested Venner, with a darker frown. "Think of what chances you are taking." "Of what?" "Suppose Nick Carter suspects you, and has a shadow on your movements "
Pylotte had invented a very clever and consistent story about himself and his mission in New York, as well as about the meeting and being victimized by the counterfeit diamond shover, and Nick as yet saw no occasion for seriously distrusting him, or connecting him with the Kilgore gang.
Nick observed the speaker's faltering manner, and it increased his curiosity. "Why do you wish to know where he lives?" he demanded. Pylotte hesitated, and shrugged his shoulders. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," said he, after a moment. "Not believe you?" "I hardly think so." "Suppose you tell me, and see," suggested Nick, with a faint smile.
Instantly Nick felt a rope noose jerked taut around his ankles, nearly throwing him from his feet. From beneath the table, the hanging cover of which had effectually concealed him, Jean Pylotte had managed to adjust the noose upon the floor about Nick's legs. At the signal given him, he had quickly drawn it taut.
"Learn what his game is, if you can. Force him to show his hand." "Leave that to me." "Not on our lives." "A warning whistle will start Pylotte, and we'll be on hand to do our part," added Kilgore, hurriedly. "Go back at once, and waste not a moment in getting at his game." "Trust me, Dave."
Together they started downstairs. A moment later Kilgore, Pylotte and Matt Stall came flurrying into the house by the rear door. In the bright light of the broad hall each party discovered the other at precisely the same moment, and Kilgore instantly guessed the truth. With a cry of rage, he whipped out his revolver and fired point-blank at the two men on the stairs.
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