“They’re smuggling diamonds and Indian rubies into the United States,” the operative continued; “and they’re big ones at the business. Many of the gems are stolen, too, and it’s safer to dispose of them in America. No doubt they’ve brought over several million dollars’ worth, and on this trip they were using you boys to help them at their game to confuse the authorities. The heels of those shoes were filled with gems; so was the handle of the tennis racket.”
“One thing I don’t understand,” said Glennon, “is why Smithers should have made me a present of that racket. Why didn’t he give it to me to give to Pickett the same as he planned to get the shoes into Pickett’s hands.”
“I never try to explain positively the working of a criminal’s mind,” replied Watson. “But you can often make a pretty safe guess at it after you’ve been studying them a while. The smartest of ’em make the most ridiculous mistakes and go to the silliest extremes sometimes to avoid detection.”
“And how did Gunseyt expect to get possession of the diamonds again,” was Glennon’s next question.
“Oh, there were a hundred ways of doing that. He could have stopped at a hotel near your home, kept up an acquaintance with you, borrowed the racket, and returned it minus the stones.”
“There’s one thing I’d like to find out,” said Guy; “and that is, what caused the change in his voice?”
“You’d think,” said Glennon, who was something of a musician, “that some mischief had got busy in his voice box and tangled the bass and treble strings together.”
“Suppose you ask him,” suggested Watson, addressing Guy.
“I’m going to ask him the first chance I get, and I’m going to look for the chance,” announced Guy determinedly.
Half an hour later Guy found an opportunity to speak with Gunseyt. The latter was seated alone in a smoking room, and the boy sauntered up and addressed him familiarly.