“But have you been told that it was my firm who bought those diamonds for the Rajah?”
“No; that is news to me.”
“It was my firm, Mr. Kernaby, who negotiated the sale of the blue diamonds to the Rajah; therefore the particulars of their loss, under most extraordinary circumstances, are well known to me. You have made me very nervous. Who is your informant?”
“A member of the native police with whom I am acquainted.”
Mr. Chundermeyer shook his head lugubriously.
“I am conveying a parcel of rough stones to Amsterdam,” he confessed, glancing warily about him over the rims of his spectacles, “and I feel very much disposed to ask for more reliable protection than is offered by your Egyptian friend.”
“Why not lodge the stones in a bank, or in the manager’s safe?”
He shook his head again, and proffered an enormous cigar.
“I distrust all safes but my own,” he replied. “I prefer to carry such valuables upon my person, foolish though the plan may seem to you. But do you observe that squarely built, military looking person standing at the bar, in conversation with M. Balabas, the manager?”