Some ten minutes later Mr. E. van Cortlandt Wynne, sitting at a desk in his Thirty-seventh Street house, was aroused from his meditations by the gentle tinkle of a bell.  He glanced up, arose, and went up the three flights of stairs to the roof.  Half a dozen birds rose and fluttered around him as he opened the trap; one door in their cote at the rear of the building was closed.  Mr. Wynne opened this door, reached in and detached a strip of tissue paper from the leg of a snow-white pigeon.  He unfolded it eagerly; on it was written:  Safe.  I love you.  D.

CHAPTER VIII

SOME CONJECTURES

Mr. Gustave Schultze dropped in to see Mr. Latham after luncheon, and listened with puckered brows to a recital of the substance of the detective’s preliminary report, made the afternoon before.

“Mr. Birnes left here rather abruptly,” Mr. Latham explained in conclusion, “saying he would see me again, either last night or to-day.  He has not appeared yet, and it may be that when he comes he will be able to add materially to what we now know.”

The huge German sat for a time with vacant eyes.

“Der gread question, Laadham,” he observed at last, gravely, “iss vere does Vynne ged dem.”

“I know that—­I know it,” said Mr. Latham impatiently.  “That is the very question we are trying to solve.”

“Und if we don’d solve him, Laadham, ve’ll haf to do vatever as he says,” Mr. Schultze continued slowly.  “Und ve may haf to do vatever as he says, anywhow.”

“Put one hundred million dollars into diamonds in one year—­just the five of us?” demanded the other.  “It’s preposterous.”

“Id iss brebosterous,” the German agreed readily; “but das iss no argument.”  He was silent for a little while.  “Vere does he ged dem?  Vere does he ged dem?” he repeated thoughtfully.  “Do you believe, Laadham, it vould be bossible to smuggle in dwenty, d’irty, ein hundred million dollars of diamonds?”

“Certainly not,” was the reply.

“Den, if dey were nod smuggled in, dey are somewhere on der records of der Custom House, ain’d id?”

Mr. Latham snapped his fingers with a sudden realization of this possibility.

“Schultze, I believe that is our clew!” he exclaimed keenly.  “Certainly they would have been listed by the customs department; and come to think of it, the tariff on them would have been enormous, so enormous that—­that—­” and he lost the hopeful tone—­“so enormous that we must have heard of it when it became a matter of public record.”

“Yah,” Mr. Schultze agreed.  “Diamonds like dose dupligates of der Koh-i-noor, der Orloff und der Regent could never haf passed through der Custom House, Laadham, mitoud attracting attention, so?”

Mr. Latham acquiesced by a nod of his head; Mr. Schultze sat regarding him through half-closed eyelids.