The Diamond Master

Jacques Futrelle
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The Diamond Master

The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Diamond Master, by Jacques Futrelle
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Title: The Diamond Master
Author: Jacques Futrelle
Release Date: February 4, 2005 [eBook #14896] [Date last updated: February 12, 2005]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DIAMOND MASTER***
E-text prepared by Ed Ferris

THE DIAMOND MASTER
by
JACQUES FUTRELLE
Author of "Elusive Isabel," "The Thinking Machine," etc.
Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer
Indianapolis The Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers
1909

[Frontispiece]

CONTENTS
I THE FIRST DIAMOND II TWEEDLEDUM AND TWEEDLEDEE III THURSDAY AT THREE IV THE UNLIMITED SUPPLY V THE ASTUTE MR. BIRNES VI THE MYSTERIOUS WOMAN VII A WINGED MESSENGER VIII SOME CONJECTURES IX AND MORE DIAMONDS! X THE BIG GAME XI THE SILENT BELL XII THE THIRD DEGREE XIII MR. CZENKI APPEARS XIV CAUGHT IN THE NET XV THE TRUTH IN
PART XVI MR. CZENKI EXPLAINS
XVII THE GREAT CUBE
CHAPTER I
THE FIRST DIAMOND
There were thirty or forty personally addressed letters, the daily heritage of the head of a great business establishment; and a plain, yellow-wrapped package about the size of a cigarette-box, some three inches long, two inches wide and one inch deep. It was neatly tied with thin scarlet twine, and innocent of markings except for the superscription in a precise, copperplate hand, and the smudge of the postmark across the ten-cent stamp in the upper right-hand corner. The imprint of the cancellation, faintly decipherable, showed that the package had been mailed at the Madison Square substation at half-past seven o'clock of the previous evening.
Mr. Harry Latham, president and active head of the H. Latham Company, manufacturing jewelers in Fifth Avenue, found the letters and the package on his desk when he entered his private office a few minutes past nine o'clock. The simple fact that the package bore no return address or identifying mark of any sort caused him to pick it up and examine it, after which he shook it inquiringly. Then, with kindling curiosity, he snipped the scarlet thread with a pair of silver scissors, and unfolded the wrappings. Inside was a glazed paper box, such as jewelers use, but still there was no mark, no printing, either on top or bottom.
The cover of the box came off in Mr. Latham's hand, disclosing a bed of white cotton. He removed the downy upper layer, and there--there, nestling against the snowy background, blazed a single splendid diamond, of six, perhaps seven, carats. Myriad colors played in its blue-white depths, sparkling, flashing, dazzling in the subdued light. Mr. Latham drew one long quick breath, and walked over to the window to examine the stone in the full glare of day.
A minute or more passed, a minute of wonder, admiration, allurement, but at last he ventured to lift the diamond from the box. It was perfect, so far as he could see; perfect in cutting and color and depth, prismatic, radiant, bewilderingly gorgeous. Its value? Even he could not offer an opinion--only the appraisement of his expert would be worth listening to on that point. But one thing he knew instantly--in the million-dollar stock of precious stones stored away in the vaults of the H. Latham Company, there was not one to compare with this.
At length, as he stared at it fascinated, he remembered that he didn't know its owner, and for the second time he examined the wrappings, the box inside and out, and finally he lifted out the lower layer of cotton, seeking a fugitive card or mark of some sort. Surely the owner of so valuable a stone would not be so careless as to send it this way, through the mail--unregistered--without some method of identification! Another sharp scrutiny of box and cotton and wrappings left him in deep perplexity.
Then another idea came. One of the letters, of course! The owner of the diamond had sent it this way, perhaps to be set, and had sent instructions under another cover. An absurd, even a reckless thing to do, but ----! And Mr. Latham attacked the heap of letters neatly stacked up in front of him. There were thirty-six of them, but not one even remotely hinted at diamonds. In order to be perfectly sure, Mr. Latham went through his mail a second time. Perhaps the letter of instructions had come addressed to the company, and had gone to the secretary, Mr. Flitcroft.
He arose to summon Mr. Flitcroft from an adjoining room, then changed his mind long enough carefully to replace the diamond in the box and thrust the box into a pigeonhole of his desk. Then he called Mr. Flitcroft in.
"Have you
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