The Diamond Master by Jacques Futrelle

The Diamond Master by Jacques Futrelle

Author:Jacques Futrelle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pronoun


CHAPTER XI

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THE SILENT BELL

He stood looking at her with earnest thoughtful eyes. Suddenly the woman-soul within her awoke in a surging, inexplicable wave of emotion which almost overcame her; and after it came something of realization of the great fight he was making for her—for her, and the aged, feeble grandfather waiting patiently out there. He loved her, this master among men, and she sighed contentedly. For the moment the maddening anxiety that brought her here was forgotten; there was only the ineffable sweetness of seeing him again. She extended her hands to him impulsively, and he kissed them both.

“The difficulty of you leaving here,” he went on after a little, “is that you would be followed, and within two hours these men would know all about you—where you are stopping, how long you have been there; they would know of your daily telephone messages to your grandfather, and then, inevitably, they would appear out there, and learn all the rest of it. It doesn’t matter how closely they keep watch of me. My plans are all made, I know I am watched, and make no mistakes. But you!”

“So I should not have come?” she questioned. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand your anxiety, of course,” he assured her, and he was smiling a little, “but the worst never happens—so for the present we will not worry. In an hour or more, now, I imagine we shall receive a pigeon-o-gram which will show that all is well. And then I shall have to plan for you to get away somehow.”

She leaned toward him a little and again he gathered her in his arms.

The red lips were mutely raised, and he kissed her reverently.

“It’s all for you and it will all be right,” he assured her.

“Gene, dear Gene!”

He pressed a button on the wall and a maid appeared.

“You will have to wait for a couple of hours or so, at least, so if you would like to take off your things?” he suggested with grave courtesy. “I dare say the suite just above is habitable, and the maid is at your service.”

The girl regarded him pensively for a moment, then turning ran swiftly up the stairs. The maid started to follow more staidly.

“Just a moment,” said Mr. Wynne crisply, in an undertone. “Miss Kellner is not to be allowed to use the telephone under any circumstances. You understand?” She nodded silently and went up the stairs.

An hour passed. From the swivel chair at his desk Mr. Wynne had twice seen Sutton stroll past on the opposite side of the street; and then Claflin had lounged along. Suddenly he arose and went to the window, throwing back the curtains. Sutton was leaning against an electric-light pole, half a block away; Claflin was half a block off in the other direction, in casual conversation with a policeman. Mr. Wynne looked them over thoughtfully. Curiously enough he was wondering just how he would fare in a physical contest with either, or both.

He turned away from the window at last and glanced at his watch impatiently.



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