Here was an incident quite new to the homing-pigeon fancy. As a rule, it may be said, homing-pigeons do not go flying about the country for weeks at a time, finally returning to their own lofts loaded with what even to the inexpert eye appeared marvellously like diamonds. The stones had not yet been cut as for setting, but their quality appeared even in their unfinished state.
It is small wonder that Ned was highly excited over the occurrence. His delight at the safe return of his favorite homer, that he had given up for lost, was quite over-balanced by his astonishment at the treasures he had brought back.
He hurried from the loft to find his father and mother to show them the stones. Very soon every member of the family was very nearly as excited over the matter as was Ned.
"If it were a strange homer I should think it might be a case of attempted smuggling," said Mr. Sinclair, remembering that the most persistent and ingenious attempts are being made constantly to get diamonds into the United States without payment of the high import duty, "but that Fleetwing should become engaged in any such disreputable work is perfectly inexplicable!" he continued, with a laugh.
"Are you sure it is Fleetwing, Ned?" asked Mrs. Sinclair.
"I'm certain sure of that, mother," said Ned, fingering the pieces of oil-silk. "I should know him anywhere; but to be perfectly certain about it, I examined his seamless leg-band, and it has his loft number and my initials."
As he spoke, smoothing out the pieces of silk in his fingers, Ned suddenly started, and held one piece up to the light. It had a line of writing across it that could be deciphered readily.
"Take at once to No. — L—- Street," the line read.
Mr. Sinclair had already planned to go to New York city on business the following day. Ho took the stones and the bits of oil-silk with him.
Some hours later an official of the United States Treasury Department was looking them over most intently. He touched a button beside his desk, and a messenger appeared.