ut what became of him. Instead of which, Crochard
put Pigot's papers in his pocket, set his bag outside the stateroom
door, and then came out calmly to meet his dear friends of the press;
and I stood there talking to him like a little schoolboy--no wonder
he thinks I'm a fool!"

"But nobody would have suspected!" I gasped. "Why, that man is-
is...."

"A genius," said Godfrey. "An absolute and unquestioned genius. But I
knew that all the time, and I ought to have been on guard. You
remember he said he would come to-day?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't believe it."

"I can't believe it yet."

"There's one consolation--it will break Grady."

"But, Godfrey," I said, "if you could have seen those diamonds--those
beautiful diamonds--and to think he should be able to get away with
them from right under our noses!"

"It's pretty bad, isn't it? But there's no use crying over spilt
milk. Lester," he added, in another tone, "I want you to be in your
office at noon to-morrow--or rather, to-day."

"All right," I promised; "I'll be there."

"Don't fail me. There is one act of the comedy still to be played."

"I'll be there," I said again. "But I'm afraid the last act will be
an anti-climax. Look here, Godfrey...."

"Now go to bed," he broke in; "you're talking like a somnambulist.
Get some sleep. Have you arranged for that vacation?"

"Godfrey," I said, "tell me...."

"I won't tell you anything. Only I've got one more bomb to explode,
Lester, and it's a big one. It will make you jump!"

I could hear him chuckling to himself.

"Good-night," he said, and hung up.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE LAST ACT OF THE DRAMA

I overslept, next morning, so outrageously that it was not until I
had got a seat in a subway express that I had time to open my paper.
My first glance was for the big head that would tell of the diamond
robbery; and then I realised that no morning paper would have a word
of it. For the robbery was only a few hours old--and yet, it seemed
to me an age had passed since that moment when Godfrey had rushed in
upon Grady and me. So the city moved on, as yet blissfully
unconscious of the sensation which would be sprung with the first
afternoon editions, and over which reporters and artists and
photographers were even now, no doubt, labouring. I promised myself a
happy half hour in reading Godfrey's story!

It was then that I remembered the appointment for twelve o'clock. The
last act of the drama was yet to be