SEARCHING FOR THE DIAMONDS.

They went directly to Mrs. Tracy’s room, where they found that lady in a much higher fever of excitement than when she first discovered her loss.  All the household had assembled in the hall and in her room, except Arthur, who sat in his library, occasionally stopping to listen to the sound of the many voices, and to wonder why there was much noise.

Tom was there with his friend, Fred Raymond, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Harold, whose face wore a look of wonder and perplexity which deepened into utter amazement as Mrs. Tracy angrily demanded of him what his business was in the hall on Wednesday morning when she saw him sneaking through the door.

’Where had you been, and did you see my diamonds?  Somebody has stolen them,’ she said, while Harold gazed at her in utter astonishment.

‘Somebody stolen your diamonds!’ he repeated, without the shadow of an idea that she could in any way connect him with a theft; nor would the idea have come to him at all, if Tom had not said to him with a sneer: 

’Better own up, Hal, and restore the property.  It is your easiest way out of it.’

Then he comprehended, and had Tom knocked him senseless the effect could not have been greater.  With lips as white as ashes and fists tightly clenched, he stood, shaking like a leaf and staring helplessly, first at one and then at another, unable to speak until his eyes fell on Jerry, whose face was a study.  She had thrown her head forward and on one side, and was looking intently at Tom Tracy, while her blue eyes flashed fire, and her whole attitude was like that of a tiger ready to pounce upon its prey.  And when Harold said faintly, ‘Ask Jerry; she knows,’ she did pounce upon Tom, not bodily, but with her tongue, pouring out her words so rapidly and mingling with them so much German that it was almost impossible to understand all she said.

‘You miserable, good-for-nothing, nasty fellow,’ she began.  ’Do you dare accuse Harold of stealing!  Stealing!  You, who are not fit to tie his shoes!  And do you want to know why he was here that morning?  I can tell you; but no, I won’t tell you!  I won’t speak to you!  I’ll never speak to you again; and if you try to kiss me as you did the other day, I’ll—­I’ll scratch out every single one of your eyes! You twit Harold for being poor, and call him a charity!  What are you but a charity yourself, I’d like to know!  Is this your house?  No, sir!  It is Mr. Arthur’s!  Everything is Mr. Arthur’s, and if you don’t quit being so mean to Harold I’ll tell him every single nasty thing I know about you!  Then see what he will do!’

As Jerry warmed with her subject, every look, every gesture, and every tone of her voice was like Arthur’s, and Frank watched with a fascination which made him forget everything else, until she turned suddenly to him, and in her own peculiar style and language told him why Harold had come to the park house that morning when the diamonds were missing.