Part 9 (1/2)

”Look here!” cried Anson; ”none of that! Search if you like, but no plotting and planning there! I don't see why they shouldn't be charged too. Search their desks as well as mine. Perhaps you'll find some illicit-diamonds there.”

West started, for a strange suspicion shot through his breast.

”If you do they'll swear I put 'em there, and the superintendent will believe them.”

”You scoundrel!” cried West pa.s.sionately, and Anson uttered a low sneering laugh; but his face grew set directly, as the officer turned upon him.

”Which is your desk, sir?” he said sharply.

”Search them all!” was the reply.

”Which is his desk?” said the superintendent to West now.

The young man made no reply, and Ingleborough pointed it out.

”Friends and brother-workers!” said Anson, in a sneering manner. ”Look here, n.o.ble employers, play fair! Let's have all the desks and the whole place searched.”

No one spoke, and after a cursory examination of the tall stool in front of the desk the officer picked up a thick silver-mounted rattan cane thrust in a stand by the side of the desk in company with three umbrellas.

”Yours?” he said, turning to the suspect.

”Yes, and one of the umbrellas too. The worst one's mine. That dandy silk one is West's. The handles of all three are sure to unscrew and are hollowed out to hold diamonds, no doubt.”

”Of course,” said the officer, and after a glance at the umbrellas he turned the thick heavy cane over in his hands, noticing that in addition to a silver cap there was a thick silver ring about six inches from the top.

”Oh yes, that's hollow too,” cried Anson mockingly, ”and stuffed full of diamonds, I daresay.--Ah! mind you don't cut your fingers!”

For the officer, as he held the thick cane in both hands, tried to unscrew the top part, thickest by the ring, and, after yielding a little, he gave it a sharp tug, drawing out about a foot of a bright blue damascened sword, and then thrusting it back with an impatient ”Pis.h.!.+”

”A sword-stick,” said the officer.

”Well, why not?” cried Anson. ”I don't carry a revolver.”

The officer thrust the cane into the stand, and then, with Anson watching him keenly, raised the lid of the broad flat desk, turned over some books and papers, measured its depth outside and in to make sure that there was no false bottom, and then brought out the clerk's little flat mahogany box, Anson grinning sneeringly as the lid was opened and the joints of the flute lay exposed to view.

”Now you've got 'em, sir!” cried Anson, with a mocking laugh. ”Blow through them, and you'll find it's all wind.”

The superintendent turned the box upside down, and the joints were left upon the top of the desk, except that the top joint with its gaping mouth-hole stuck in the velvet fitting, but looked the most hollow of the set.

”There's nothing here, gentlemen,” said the officer, replacing the other joints and gravely closing the desk.

”Oh, nonsense!” cried Anson, jeering. ”You haven't half looked.

Perhaps, though, young West has the whole swag in his desk.”

”Would you like to examine the other desks, gentlemen?” said the officer.

”No, certainly not,” said the leading director sharply; ”we have no wish to insult our employes.”

”Only one,” snarled Anson. ”Do you call this fair play?”