“The gambling place they entered was Oriental. At least those who appeared to run it were Japanese men. Back of them was an American, a professional gambler.”
She paused.
“Last night I saw that man.”
“On—on that island!” Florence stared.
“I am sure he is the man. But I want him less than the jewels. I am not on duty. This is my vacation. I am doing this on my own time.”
“Why?”
“Desire for a professional triumph, perhaps. Besides, as I said, I like the girl.”
“Getting back to that night,” the lady cop went on after a pause, “the place that girl and her friends entered was one of those that are quite typical in some big cities. Secret passages, peculiar knock, and all that. And then bright lights, whirling wheels, gleaming balls. All dazzling, and dangerous.
“The little girl gambled with the rest. She won. The narrow eyes of an Oriental had spied that priceless pendant. He knew its value; resolved to play for it.
“For a long time the girl won. Her pockets bulged with money. Her companions applauded. She would break the bank. Her eyes shone. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hands trembled as she placed her wagers.