His fingers trembled slightly as he pressed the jewelled spring. It opened on an empty casket.
In the sudden shock of horror and astonishment, his convulsive clutch on the spring started a tiny bell ringing. Then, under his very nose, the empty tray slid aside revealing another tray underneath, set solidly with brilliants. A rainbow glitter streamed from the unset gems in the silken tray. Like an incredulous child he touched them. They were magnificently real.
In the centre lay blazing the great Erosite gem, — the Flaming Jewel itself. Priceless diamonds, sapphires, emeralds ringed it. In his hands he held nearly four millions of dollars.
Gingerly he balanced the emblazoned case, fascinated. Then he replaced the empty tray, closed the box, thrust it into the bosom of his flannel shirt and buttoned it in.
Now there was little more for this excited young man to do. He was through with Clinch. Hal Smith, hold-up man and dish-washer at Clinch's Dump, had ended his career. The time had now arrived for him to vanish and make room for James Darragh.
Because there still remained a very agreeable role for Darragh to play. and he meant to eat it up — as Broadway has it.
For by this time the Grand Duchess of Esthonia — Ricca, as she was called by her companion, Valentine, the pretty Countess Orloff-Strelwitz — must have arrived in New York.
At the big hunting lodge of the late Henry Harrod — now inherited by
Darragh — there might be a letter — perhaps a telegram — the cue for
Hal Smith to vanish and for James Darragh to enter, play his brief but
glittering part, and——
Darragh's sequence of pleasing meditations halted abruptly. … To walk out of the life of the little Grand Duchess did not seem to suit his ideas — indefinite and hazy as they were, so far.
He lifted the bridle from the horse's neck, divided curb and snaffle thoughtfully, touched the splendid animal with heel and knee.