his habitual frankness:

"Well, I've had poor ones--plenty on 'em; but these were saved for a
special purpose," and he winked knowingly at Mr. Cohen. Then he added, as
he shot a sweeping look around the store and out through the window upon
the sidewalk: "Jest give us their value in round figgers, and well soon
settle this matter."

The expert quietly made a memorandum upon a card and laid it before the
jeweler, then immediately withdrew to the private office.

"Well?" demanded Tom Rider, his keen little eyes gleaming with repressed
excitement, as Mr. Knowlton shut the door after him.

"The two large stones belong to Amos Palmer, the others I never saw
before, and you'd better hook your man as soon as possible, because he
is beginning to smell powder," said the gentleman, in a low tone.

"I'm ready for him," muttered the detective, as he grabbed his hat,
crushed it upon his head, and vanished out of the back door with a good
deal more of elasticity in his step than when he had entered.

Going around to the front entrance he sauntered into the store and up
to the counter, where Mr. Cohen was apparently trying to drive a close
bargain for the Australian(?) diamonds, but really waiting for some sign
from the men closeted in his office.

He paused at the entrance of the new-comer, bowed gravely, and politely
inquired:

"What can I do for you, sir?"

"I'm sorry to give you any trouble," the detective returned, in quick,
sharp tones, "but it is my duty to arrest this man! You are my prisoner,
sir," he concluded, laying his hand on the shoulder of the supposed
miner.

A startled oath broke from the man's lips, and he made an agile spring
for the door.

But the detective was too quick for him, and deftly placed a pair of
twisters about his wrists, with such force as to wring a howl of agony
from him.

"None of that, my fine fellow," Mr. Rider said, sternly, as he slyly
tried to slip his other hand underneath his coat, and he gave the
twisters another forcible turn. "Just you let that revolver alone."

"All right," said the miner, apparently yielding; "but what's the charge?
Ye can't expect a fellar to submit very tamely to this kind o' thing
without knowing what he's nabbed for."

"I arrest you for robbery. These diamonds are stolen property," was the
brief reply of the detective.

"You don't say!" drawled the man, in a tone of sarcastic wonder. "Perhaps
ye'll be good enough to prove what ye assert."

The d