“And I had a gun on me,” John groaned aloud.
“I’m glad you didn’t use it,” said Tom. “We’ll get them and all their pals. If we don’t send them up for trying to get away with those silver fox skins we’ll take them for that diamond robbery. You’ve got the proof, the diamonds,” he turned to John.
“Oh, no you won’t,” was John’s surprising reply.
“Why—what—” they all turned upon him.
“I took the diamonds over to the man whose safe was robbed,” he explained. “He said the diamonds we took from the old house were very nice stones, very fine indeed, and worth a lot of money. But—” he heaved a sigh, then added, “he’d never seen them before.”
“Never seen——”
“They were cut in an old-fashioned manner that belongs to another generation,” John went on. “It seems more than probable that the eccentric old Judge hid them there many years ago.
“So—o,” he concluded, “I’ve filed them away in a vault for future reference.”
“Then,” said Tom, “we’ll get that gang with the goods on them, the night they come after those furs. Only—” deep lines appeared on his face. “That will be taking a desperate chance. If the Terror puts deadly poison in his silent messengers, his bubbles, you know, the city will be obliged to employ some new detectives on the morning after.
“Let me see,” he puzzled for a moment. “I would throw a guard about the place now only they might get wise. No, I’ll watch that garage. The truck will give them away.”