"He has--what?" asked Mr. Latham.

For half a minute Czenki stared at his employer; then his face grew
impassive again.

"I beg your pardon," he said quietly. "Mr. Wynne is a heavy importer
of sugar from Brazil. Isn't it possible that those _are_ Brazilian
diamonds? That new workings have been discovered somewhere in the
interior? That he has smuggled them in concealed in the sugar-bags,
right into New York, under the noses of the customs officials? I beg
your pardon," he concluded.


Late in the afternoon of the following day a drunken man, unshaven,
unkempt, unclean and clothed in rags, lurched into a small pawnshop
in the lower Bowery and planked down on the dirty counter a handful
of inert, colorless pebbles, ranging in size from a pea to a peanut.

"Say, Jew, is them real diamonds?" he demanded thickly.

The man in charge glanced at them and nearly fainted. Ten minutes
later Red Haney, knight of the road, was placed under arrest as a
suspicious character. Uncut diamonds, valued roughly at fifty
thousand dollars, were found in his possession.

"Where did you get them?" demanded the amazed police.

"Found 'em."