“Most gentlemen complain of going up so far.”
“It makes little difference to me.”
At length they reached the room, and Mr. Montgomery entered.
“This will answer very well,” he said, with a hasty glance about him. “When my trunk comes, I want it sent up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I believe that is all; you can go.”
The servant retired and Mr. Felix Montgomery sat down upon the bed.
“My little plot seems likely to succeed,” he said to himself. “I've been out of luck lately, but this boy's ring will give me a lift. He can't suspect anything. He'll be sure to come.”
Probably the reader has already suspected that Mr. Felix Montgomery was not a jeweler from Syracuse, nor had he any claim to the name under which he at present figured. He was a noted confidence man, who lived by preying upon the community. His appearance was in his favor, and it was his practice to assume the dress and air of a respectable middle-aged citizen, as in the present instance. The sight of the diamond ring had excited his cupidity, and he had instantly formed the design of getting possession of it, if possible. Thus far, his plan promised success.
Meanwhile, Paul loitered away the time in the City Hall Park for half an hour or more. He did not care to go home until his negotiation was complete, and he could report the ring sold, and carry home the money.