“Not yet. I suspect a hidden danger. It affects me — Albert Palermo; but not you — Thelda Blanchet.
“Last night, a man called here. He questioned me. He pretended to be a newspaper correspondent. He spoke of many things, and among others, he mentioned — this!”
From beneath his robe, Palermo brought forth a jewel box. He opened it, and revealed the purple sapphire. With an exclamation of delight, Thelda stepped forward to view the gem more closely.
“Some day,” said Palermo significantly, “this sapphire will be yours, Thelda. But I must keep it for the present — until I have dealt with the unknown dangers which surround it.”
“The man who was here last night?” Thelda’s question expressed grave concern. Palermo dismissed it with a laugh.
“A creature of little account,” he said. “I would not have troubled with him, myself. I gave the word to Macklin. That was all.
“But something went wrong with Macklin’s plans. The man did not die. He was rescued — by another.
We have an enemy who may be troublesome. That is why I say to wait.”
BEFORE the girl could reply, Hassan entered. He went to the corner of the room, and opened a sliding door that revealed a dumb waiter.
The Arab pulled the cords, and the carrier came in view. On it rested the strange Oriental image of a dwarfed, seated figure.