Chapter XVII: Recovering the Diamonds

When Harry ran from La Croix's room, he passed Andrew Gibson in the hall, and smiled when he thought of the man's coming surprise.

Racing downstairs, the boy made inquiries at the different entrances to the hotel, for information about the girl smuggler.

A man had seen her go out the Vesey street door.

As he was interested in her pretty face, he watched her a few moments and had seen her go hurrying over to Broadway.

She had kept on the west side of the street and was evidently going downtown on foot in the dense crowd thronging the street.

With this meagre clew to follow, Harry hurried away.

"She had the gems," he muttered. "Perhaps she had an idea of selling them quick to raise money to aid her parents, both of whom she now knows are in trouble. She's a wise girl, and must certainly know that she would be helpless to aid them without money. Money will give her power. It's possible, therefore, that she's heading for the jewelry district, which is near by. As the street is crowded with vehicles and she'd have to cross to reach Maiden Lane or John street, she must have gone over under the protection of a policeman. He would remember her and might post me. I'll try all the big cops from here down to Wall street, if necessary."

Harry knew that the largest part of the time of these officers was spent at escorting people across the crowded street.

He therefore began with the policeman at Fulton street, giving him an accurate description of Clara, but the officer had not seen her.

On the corner of Dey street he met with the same result.

At Cortlandt street he gained a clew.

The officer there had piloted a girl over who answered her description and said she had gone down the Lane on the north side.

Harry hastened down the great jewelry center.

He scrutinized every one he met.

As a general rule, excepting girls who are employed in the business houses of the downtown section of the city, but few females frequent the side streets.

In fact, so few pass through these streets, that when they do, they are noticed by the numerous boys and business men thereabouts.

Harry was relying upon this curious, but true fact, to gain some news of the girl he was pursuing.

He therefore did not hesitate to ask everyone with whom he came in contact if they had seen such a girl as Clara was.

In some cases he received a negative answer, while in others, not a few people admitted they had noticed her.

According to the latter information, he traced her to Nassau street, and an Italian apple vender with a push-cart near the corner, said he had seen her turn the corner and proceed toward John street.

Following up this clew, Harry met a man standing near the window of a haberdasher's store who asserted that he had seen such a person go through John street toward Broadway.

He averred that she had gone into a building near the corner and pointed out the place to the young detective.

When Harry reached the building in question, he paused and studied the business men's signs in the doorway.

One in particular attracted his attention, worded this way:

"Cliquot & Co., Diamonds, Second Floor Front."

A curious smile flitted over the young detective's face and he passed into the narrow hall and ascended the stairs muttering:

"I wonder if she's in there?"

In the upper hall he saw the name of the dealer in precious stones, painted on the ground-glass window.

Harry opened the door and strode in.

He found himself in a small office containing two huge Herring safes, guarded with burglar alarm cabinets. A long table covered with blue cloth served as a counter. Near the front windows was a bookkeeper working at his desk. At the rear a small compartment was partitioned off to serve as a private office.

A fat little Frenchman was behind the counter, but Harry did not see any signs of Clara La Croix.

A feeling of disappointment overcame him.

The salesman bowed, looked at him inquiringly, and asked politely:

"Well, sir, what can I do for you to-day?"

"Is Mr. Cliquot in?" asked Harry, in low tones.

The salesman smiled and shook his head.

"No," he replied. "He is dead."

"Dead? But the name on your sign--"

"Is only kept as a firm name. His partner is in."

"Are you the gentleman?"

"No. His name is Decker. But he is engaged at present."

"I wish to see him personally."

"Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you. I am in a great hurry."

"In that case, perhaps I can arrange an interview."

"I won't detain him a minute."

The clerk passed into the little private office, and Harry heard the low hum of voices. Then the proprietor said:

"Send him in."

The salesman reappeared, nodded, smiled and said:

"Go right in, sir, through that door in the partition."

Harry pushed the door open.

It was a small room containing a desk at which sat a bald-headed, little, old man with a mass of diamonds spread before him on the desk.

He had a magnifying glass in his eye, a pair of tweezers in his hand, and a small delicate scale in front of him.

Evidently he had been weighing and sizing up the stones.

In a chair beside him sat Clara La Croix!

As Harry stepped forward with a smile on his face, their glances met.

She half started from her chair, uttering a smothered cry of intense dismay, and her face turned as pale as death.

"Young King Brady!" she gasped, faintly.

"Clara, I've run you down at last!"

She fairly groaned.

Her defeat was hard to bear.

"This is terrible!" she muttered.

Harry pointed at the diamonds in front of the astonished dealer.

"Ain't those the smuggled diamonds?" he asked.

Before she could reply, Mr. Decker sprang to his feet, crying in alarm:

"Good heavens! Are these smuggled diamonds?"

"Yes," replied Harry, with a nod.

"No wonder she wanted to sell them so cheap!"

"Mr. Decker, I am a Custom House officer."

"Ah!"

"This girl is a smuggler."

"I see!"

"We've been on her trail since she brought those gems from Holland to Canada, and thence over the border without paying duty on them."

"The little wretch!"

"Are you a party to this deal?"

"No, indeed!" emphatically replied the dealer. "I'm a victim. She came in a while ago and said her father died, leaving a stock of diamonds to her as he had been an importer. As she offered to sell them very cheap, I was selecting a lot to buy, when you came in."

"I believe you, sir."

"I am a respectable business man."

"Oh, there can't be any doubt of that. This girl is developing into one of the most expert crooks in the country. For her own good it's a blessing that I've caught her before she gets any worse."

"That's a fact."

"Kindly gather up those gems in a package for me."

"Certainly. I'm glad you arrived in time to save me from buying goods of this kind. I have no desire to do any crooked business."

He made a package of the diamonds.

Harry then turned his attention to Clara who was weeping bitterly and said to her in low tones:

"There's no use playing the baby act. We've got your father, mother and the four spies. You and the diamonds are the last of the bunch."

"But I don't want to go to prison," she sobbed.

"I can't help that. You've broken the law and now you have got to take the consequence of your evildoing."

"Can't you let me go?"

"No."

"I'll give you all those diamonds if you do."

"My dear girl, I'm going to take them anyway."

"But I mean for keeps. They're worth $250,000."

"I wouldn't let you go for ten times that amount."

"Very well," she replied, despairingly, "take me."

"If you'll go along peacefully I won't handcuff you and I'll take you in a cab so people won't be staring."

"You are very kind. I'll do anything you ask."

Harry took the diamonds from Mr. Decker and ranging himself alongside of the girl he led her down to the street.

A cab was procured and they drove away.