The place to which he went was a remote Southern town, where Northern newspapers seldom found their way; consequently he could not know anything of the intense excitement that was prevailing in New York over the mysterious disappearance of Raymond Palmer and the costly stones he had taken with him.

To his pupil he had hastily explained all that he could regarding the young man’s case, and had told him that his name was Walton; so, of course, Doctor Huff, on reading an account of the diamond robbery and the strange disappearance of the merchant’s son, never dreamed that the patient left in his charge was the missing young man.

Mr. Palmer did not seem to be at all troubled over the non-appearance of his son until the time arrived to close the store for the night; then he began to feel some anxiety.

Still, he told himself, Ray might possibly have been detained longer than he had anticipated, and finding it rather late to return to the store, had gone immediately home, where there was also a safe in which the diamonds could be deposited for the night.

With this hope to rest upon, he hastened to his residence, but was made even more anxious upon being told by the housekeeper “that Mr. Raymond had not come in yet.”

He kept hoping he might come, so he ate his supper and then tried to compose himself to read his papers; but his uneasiness only continued to increase.

He endured the suspense until nine o’clock, and then went down town to consult with the superintendent of police.

He confided to him what had occurred, and his fears regarding the safety of his son, and he was by no means reassured when that official at once exclaimed that “the whole thing was a put-up job.”

“Keep quiet,” he advised, “for a day or two, and we will see what we can do.”

He set his detectives at work upon the case immediately, while the anxious father endeavored to endure his suffering in silence.  But the “day or two” brought no revelations, and his agony could no longer be controlled; he believed that his son had been murdered for the sake of the diamonds, and thus the matter became public.

The newspapers were full of the affair, and caused great excitement.  The city offered a large reward for any intelligence regarding the missing young man or the diamonds, and this was doubled by Mr. Palmer himself.

But days and weeks passed, and no clew was obtained regarding either the stolen jewels or Ray’s mysterious fate; therefore the belief that he had been foully dealt with prevailed very generally.

Mr. Palmer had placed in the hands of a private detective a detailed account in writing of the woman’s visit to the store, and also a minute description of herself, and the moment he had finished reading it the man’s face lighted up with eager interest, even enthusiasm.

“Great Scott!” exclaimed the detective, with a resounding slap upon his knee, “I’ll wager my badge that it’s a sequel to that Bently affair, when a young broker of Chicago was wretchedly fooled with some diamonds about three years ago!—­that woman also had short, curly red hair.”