To think that any man, or set of men, made real diamonds as
large as the ones you have, doesn't seem--well--" and Tom
hesitated.
"You mean you can hardly believe me?" asked Mr. Jenks.
"I guess that's it," assented Tom.
"I don't blame you a bit!" exclaimed the odd man. "In fact, I
didn't believe it when they told me they could make diamonds. But
they proved it to me. I'm ready now to prove it to you."
"I'll tell you what I'll do. Here's this one stone, cut ready
for setting. Here's another, uncut," and Mr. Jenks drew from his
pocket what looked like a piece of crystal. "Take them to any
jeweler," he resumed--"to the one in whose place I saw you to-night.
I'll abide by the verdict you get, and I'll come here to-morrow
night, and hear what you have to say."
"Why do you come at night?" asked Tom, thinking there was
something suspicious in that.
"Because my life might be in danger if I was seen talking to
you, and showing you diamonds in the daytime--especially just
now.
"Why at this particular time?"
"For the reason that the diamond makers are on my trail. As
long as I remained quiet, after their shabby treatment of me, and
did not try to discover their secret, they were all right. But,
after I realized that I had been cheated out of my rights, and
when I began to make an investigation, with a view to discovering
their secret whereabouts, I received mysterious and anonymous
warnings to stop.
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