A startled oath broke from the man's lips, and he made an agile spring for the door.
But the detective was too quick for him, and deftly placed a pair of twisters about his wrists, with such force as to wring a howl of agony from him.
"None of that, my fine fellow," Mr. Rider said, sternly, as he slyly tried to slip his other hand underneath his coat, and he gave the twisters another forcible turn. "Just you let that revolver alone."
"All right," said the miner, apparently yielding; "but what's the charge? Ye can't expect a fellar to submit very tamely to this kind o' thing without knowing what he's nabbed for."
"I arrest you for robbery. These diamonds are stolen property," was the brief reply of the detective.
"You don't say!" drawled the man, in a tone of sarcastic wonder. "Perhaps ye'll be good enough to prove what ye assert."
The detective could but admire the cool effrontery of the fellow, but he quietly responded:
"It has already been proved—those large diamonds have just been identified."
"Ah!"
The miner said no more, but quietly submitted to have a pair of handcuffs snapped on his wrists.