CHAPTER IX.
AND MORE DIAMONDS! There was a rap on the door, and a clerk thrust his head in.
"Mr.Birnes to see you, sir," he announced.
"Show him in," directed Mr.Latham.

"Sit down, both of you, and let's see what he has to say." There was an odd expression of hope deferred on the detective's face when he entered.

He glanced inquiringly at Mr.Schultze and Mr.Czenki, whereupon Mr.Latham introduced them.
"You may talk freely," he added.

"We are all interested alike." The detective crossed his legs and balanced his hat carefully on a knee, the while he favored Mr.Czenki with a sharp scrutiny.

There was that in the thin, scarred face and in the beady black eyes which inevitably drew the attention of a stranger, and half a dozen times as he talked Mr.Birnes glanced at the expert.
He retold the story of the cab ride up Fifth Avenue, and the car trip back downtown--omitting embarrassing details such as the finding of two notes addressed to himself--dwelt a moment upon the empty gripsack which Mr.Wynne carried on the car, and then: "When you told me, Mr.Latham, that the gripsack had contained diamonds when Mr.Wynne left here I knew instantly how he got rid of them.