"You can go now," said Townsend, falling back on his pillow.
The mate gave the caller a sharp sizing out of the clew of his eyes and then went out, closing the door softly behind him.
"Pull a chair up close to the bed, Matt," went on Townsend. "I guess I'm getting better—the doctor says so—but I'll know that as soon as these diamonds are off my hands. I'm worried to death about them, as some one has been watching this house for two days. Why didn't you come the back way, as I told Carl and Dick to tell you? And why didn't you wait until midnight?"
"Well," answered Dashington, seating himself by the bed, "the cars don't run so I could get here at just midnight, old fel. I either had to come now, or get here at half-past twelve. Thought I'd take an earlier chance. As for coming the back way, I tried it; but there's no alley and there's a dog in the next yard. I think this rig I've put on'll fool anybody across the street, eh? And then the talk that goes with it is some fine, don't you think? I'm a regular lollypaloozer with the 'con' talk."
"You're about the most resourceful young fellow I've ever come across," said Townsend, "and I knew you'd see that everything was all right."
"Sure, old fel. I'm no hand to jolly, but I give you credit for being a pretty slick piece of goods yourself. But, say! Don't you think we'd better rush this business? Ef there's a man piping the house off, the quicker we finish and I duck, the better."
"Keen as ever, my boy!" exclaimed Townsend, in a tone of relief. "Reach your hand under my pillow and take out what you find there."
It was an eager hand that went under the pillow and drew out a canvas bag.
"Those are the diamonds, Matt," said Townsend. "I don't have to tell you anything about them. The address of the lady to whom they are to go is on the card pinned to the bag."
"Is she looking for me to come?" inquired Dashington. "This isn't exactly a fashionable hour for a call."