“Diamond merchants, of course, have to be careful,” the young man went on smoothly.  “They can’t afford to buy whatever is offered by people whom they don’t know.  They had reason, too, to believe that I was not acting for myself alone.  What was more natural, therefore, than that they should have called in Mr. Birnes, and the men of his agency, to find out about me, and, if possible, to find out whom I represented, so they might locate the supply?  I wouldn’t tell them, because it was not desirable that they should deal directly with Mr. Kellner, who was old and childish, and lacking, perhaps, in appreciation of the real value of diamonds.

“The result of all this was that the diamond dealers placed me under strict surveillance.  My house was watched; my office was watched.  My mail going and coming, was subjected to scrutiny; my telephone calls were traced; telegrams opened and read.  I had anticipated all this, of course, and was in communication with Mr. Kellner here only by carrier-pigeons.”  He glanced meaningly at Mr. Birnes, who was utterly absorbed in the recital.  “Those carrier-pigeons were not exchanged by express, because the records would have furnished a clew to Mr. Birnes’ men; I personally took them back and forth in a suitcase before I approached Mr. Latham with the original proposition.”

He was giving categorical answers to a few of the multitude of questions to which Mr. Birnes had been seeking answers.  The tense expression about Mr. Czenki’s eyes was dissipated, and he sighed a little.

“I saw the Red Haney affair in the newspapers this morning, as you will know,” he continued after a moment.  “It was desirable that I should come here with Miss Kellner, but it was not desirable, even under those circumstances, that I should permit myself to be followed.  That’s how it happens that Mr. Claflin and Mr. Sutton are now locked up in my house.”  Again there was a pause.  “Mr. Birnes, I know, will be glad to confirm my statement of the case in so far as his instructions from Mr. Latham and the other gentlemen interested bear on it?”

Chief Arkwright glanced at the detective inquiringly.

“That’s right,” Mr. Birnes admitted with an uncertain nod—­“that is, so far as my instructions go.  I understood, though, that the diamonds were worth more than sixty thousand dollars; in fact, that there might have been a million dollars’ worth of them.”

“A million dollars!” repeated Chief Arkwright in amazement.  “A million dollars!” he repeated.  He turned fiercely upon Mr. Wynne.  “What about that?” he demanded.

“I’m sure I don’t know what Mr. Birnes understood,” replied the young man, with marked emphasis.  “But it’s preposterous on the face of it, isn’t it?  Would a man with a million dollars’ worth of diamonds live in a hovel like this?”

The chief considered the matter reflectively for a minute or more, the while his keen eyes alternately searched the faces of Mr. Wynne and Mr. Czenki.