xplain his acquaintance with Keralio, an utter stranger
of dubious antecedents. How explain the loss of the diamonds? The
explanation Kenneth had given was decidedly fishy. Parker did not
believe a word of it--in fact, frankly expressed, his opinion was that
his vice-president had disposed of the gems. Had he himself not seen
Kenneth driving about the Bronx with Keralio at an impossible hour?
Had not Helen discovered Francois conversing on intimate terms with his
master? It all looked decidedly bad; only time could unravel it all.
It was a fearful thing to suspect a man of Kenneth's standing, but
everything pointed to his being involved in a vast network of crime.

He was aroused from his reflections by an exclamation of warning from
his companion.

"Quick--there he goes!" whispered Dick.

The valet had suddenly made a sharp turn to the right, and was lost to
view. But quick as he was, Dick was quicker. The young man was a
little ahead of the lawyer, and, putting on a spurt of speed, he
reached the corner just in time to see the Frenchman and suitcase
disappear into a grimy, dilapidated looking tenement at the end of a
blind alley.

"We've run the fox to earth," whispered Steell exultantly.

"Could any melodrama wish for a more appropriate _mise-en-scene_?"
grinned Dick.

"Come opposite, and find out what we can see from the outside."

Crossing the street they took up positions in the shadow of a doorway.

The house which the Frenchman had entered was all dark and apparently
tenantless, except on the top floor where lights could be faintly seen
behind hermetically sealed shutters. Straining his ears, Steell
thought he could hear the steady hum of machinery in motion. With an
exclamation of satisfaction, he turned to his companion:

"We've got 'em, Dick, we've got 'em. Do you hear the presses going?"

The young man listened. The sound was plainly audible, but it was a
muffled sound, as if the walls and windows were padded with mattresses
to prevent any sounds of the operations within from reaching
inquisitive, outside ears.

"Let's go upstairs," whispered Steell.

Recrossing the road, they entered the house and began to grope their
way up the narrow, winding staircase. They could make only slow
progress, not only because of the absence of light, but owing to the
rotten condition of the stairs. Indescribably filthy and littered with
all sorts of rubbish and broken glass, in some places the board