While he was speaking, he had assisted his wife and daughters to alight. As they passed up the steps and into the house, the waiter saw that each of the three ladies was wearing quantities of jewels in their hair, at their throats, and on their fingers. Lustrous pearls glowed softly, and priceless diamonds scintillated.
How the waiter’s eyes sparkled at the sight! He had often heard of the famous Massey jewels—collected in all parts of the world by the late Charles P. Massey—but never before had he seen them, and now that he saw them, he was only too ready to believe that popular rumor had not exaggerated when it estimated their value at nearly half a million.
“Atherton was right,” he muttered, under his breath. “A prize like that is worth the risk, even if the risk were ten times greater than it is.”
By this time the Masseys had entered the house, and the butler had followed them. The footman exchanged a few words with the chauffeur, then he, too, disappeared, closing and locking the door behind him. The driver slipped in his clutch—the engine was still running—and a moment later the car vanished round the end of the house on its way to the garage at the back.
Max glanced at his watch again, and thoughtfully rubbed his chin.
“This is shaving it pretty closely,” he thought. “Atherton calculated that everybody would be fast asleep by half past one at latest, but it will be nearly quarter to three at this rate before they quiet down. And those fellows will be here at three.”
He shook his head.
“I’m afraid it can’t be done to-night,” his thoughts ran on. “However, I may as well wait until they show up, and see what happens.”
The front of the house was all in darkness now, but[Pg 13] presently lights appeared in three of the bedroom windows.
“So they’ve gone straight to their rooms, as Massey said,” soliloquized the waiter, “but surely he’ll lock up the jewels before he turns in. Atherton said he always did——”