A Dash from Diamond City - Part 9
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Part 9

"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 "Pish!"

"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?"

West drew a breath full of relief, and glanced at Ingleborough, who made no sign, but stood looking stolidly at the officer.

"I'm quite satisfied, gentlemen," said the latter. "There is nothing here. Do you charge Mr Anson with illicit dealing?"

"You have not searched his apartments yet," said the chief director.

"We wish to have further proofs first."

Anson opened his mouth a short distance as his chief spoke, and closed it again with a sharp little snap.

"You wish the prisoner's rooms to be searched then, gentlemen?"

"I'm not a prisoner," cried Anson angrily. "I've neither been charged nor taken into custody."

"Certainly!" said the director sternly. "Search Mr Anson's rooms preliminary to his being charged and taken into custody. Mr West, go in front with the superintendent to show the way. I do not wish to make a procession, to create excitement and make us the observed of all."

"I understand, sir. Mr Anson will walk in advance with me, and you can follow as you please. There is no need for Mr West to walk with us. I know the way!"

"Of course!" snarled Anson. "Mr Ingleborough's doing, I suppose. Then I have been watched."

"Yes, my doing," said the person named. "As soon as I suspected you of illicit dealing I kept an eye upon you and told Mr Norton here what I thought."

"Cowardly, sneaking cur!" cried Anson, grinding his teeth.

"No, sir," cried the director sternly: "faithful servant of the company."

"Where are your proofs that I am not?" cried Anson fiercely.

"Not found yet," said the officer; "but with all your cunning I daresay we shall trace them."

"Go on," said Anson. "I'm ready for you."

The next minute the whole party were straggling through the camp-like town towards the outskirts, to gather together at the very ordinary shed-like house of mud wall and fluted corrugated-iron roofing, where the wife of one of the men at the mine stared in wonder at the party, and then looked in awe at her lodger, her eyes very wide open and startled as she grasped what the visit meant.

"Oh, Mr Anson, what have you been a-doing of?" she cried, and burst into tears.

West looked at the poor woman with a feeling of pity, and then felt disposed to kick Anson for his brutality, for the clerk's gesture was that of an ill-tempered cur: he literally snapped at her.

"Out of the way, you idiot!" he cried, "and let this police-constable and his party come by."

West saw the directors exchange glances before following the superintendent into the little house, leaving the two clerks to the last, the police-constables remaining watchfully at the door.

"Master Anson is regularly cutting the ground from under him, Ingle,"

said West softly.

"Yes: the fool! I take it to be a tacit confession. You don't think I've made a mistake now?"

West shook his head and looked distressed, but said nothing.