The Flaming Jewel

by Robert W. Chambers

real.

  In the centre lay blazing the great Erosite gem, -- the Flaming Jewelitself. Priceless diamonds, sapphires, emeralds ringed it. In hishands he held nearly four millions of dollars.

  Gingerly he balanced the emblazoned case, fascinated. Then he replacedthe empty tray, closed the box, thrust it into the bosom of his flannelshirt and buttoned it in.

  Now there was little more for this excited young man to do. He wasthrough with Clinch. Hal Smith, hold-up man and dish-washer at Clinch'sDump, had ended his career. The time had now arrived for him to vanishand make room for James Darragh.

  Because there still remained a very agreeable role for Darragh to play.and he meant to eat it up -- as Broadway has it.

  For by this time the Grand Duchess of Esthonia -- Ricca, as she wascalled by her companion, Valentine, the pretty Countess Orloff-Strelwitz-- must have arrived in New York.

  At the big hunting lodge of the late Henry Harrod -- now inherited byDarragh -- there might be a letter -- perhaps a telegram -- the cue forHal Smith to vanish and for James Darragh to enter, play his brief butglittering part, and----

  Darragh's sequence of pleasing meditations halted abruptly. ... To walkout of the life of the little Grand Duchess did not seem to suit hisideas -- indefinite and hazy as they were, so far.

  He lifted the bridle from the horse's neck, divided curb and snafflethoughtfully, touched the splendid animal with heel and knee.

  As he cantered on into the wide forest road that led to his late uncle'sabode, curiosity led him to wheel into a narrower trail running eastalong Star Pond, and from whence he could make a farewell view ofClinch's Dump.

  He smiled to think of Eve and Stormont there together, and now in safetybehind bolted doors and shutters.

  He grinned to think of Quintana and his precious crew, blood-crazy,baffled, probably already distrusting one another, yet running wildthrough the night like starving wolves galloping at hazard across afamine-stricken waste.

  "Only wait till Stormont makes his report," he thought, grinning morebroadly still. "Every State Trooper north of Albany will be after SenorQuintana. Some hunting! And, if he could understand, Mike Clinch mightthank his stars that what I've done this night has saved him his skinand Eve a broken heart!"

  He drew his horse to a walk, now, for the path began to run closer toStar Pond, skirting the pebbled shallows in the open just ahead.

  Alders still concealed the house across the lake, but the trail wasalready coming out into the starlight.

  Suddenly his horse stopped short, trembling, its ears pricked forward.

  Darragh sat listening intently for a moment. Then with infinitecaution, he leaned over the cantle and gently parted the alders.

  On the pebbled beach, full in the starlight, stood two figures, on whiteand slim, the other dark.

  The arm of the dark figure clasped the waist of the white and slenderone.

  Evidently they had heard his horse, for they stood motionless, lookingdirectly at the alders behind which his horse had halted.

  To turn might mean a shot in the back as far as Darragh knew. He wasstill masked with Salzar's red bandanna. He raised his rifle, slid acartridge into the breech, pressed his horse forward with a slight touchof heel and knee, and rode slowly out into the star-dusk.

  What Stormont saw was a masked man, riding his own horse, with menacingrifle half lifted for a shot! What Eve Strayer thought she saw was tooterrible for words. And before Stormont could prevent her she sprang infront of him, covering his body with her gown.

  At that the horseman tore off his red mask:

  "Eve! Jack Stormont! What the devil are you doing over _here!_"

  Stormont walked slowly up to his own horse, laid one unsteady hand onits silky nose, kept it there while dusty, velvet lips mumbled andcaressed his fingers.

  "I knew it was a calvaryman," he said quietly. "I suspected you, Jim.It was the sort of crazy thing you were likely to do. ... I don't askyou what you're up to, where you've been, what your plans may be. Ifyou needed me you'd have told me.

  "But I've got to have my horse for Eve. Her feet are wounded. She's inher night-dress and wringing wet. I've got to set her on my horse andtry to take her through to Ghost Lake."

  Darragh stared at Stormont, at the ghostly figure of the girl who hadsunk down on the sand at the lake's edge. Then he scrambled out of thesaddle and handed over the bridle.

  "Quintana came back," said Stormont. "I hope to reckon with him someday. ... I believe he came back to harm Eve. ... We got out of thehouse. ... We swam the lake. ... I'd have gone under except for her----"

  In his distress and overwhelming mortification, Darragh stood miserable,mute, irresolute.

  Stormont seemed to understand: "What you did, Jim, was well meant," hesaid. "I understand. Eve will understand when I tell her. But thatfellow Quintana is a devil. You can't draw a herring across any trailhe follows. I tell you, Jim, this fellow Quintana is either blood-mador just plain crazy. Somebody will have to put him out of the way.I'll do it if I ever find him."

  "Yes. ... You people ought to do that. ... Or, if you like, I'llvolunteer. ... I've a little business to transact in New York, first.... Jack, your tunic an breeches are soaked; I'll be glad to chip insomething for Eve. ... Wait a moment----"

  He stepped into cover, drew the morocco box from his grey shirt, shovedit into his hip pocket.

  Then he threw off his cartridge belt and hunting coat, pulled the greyshirt over his head and came out in his undershirt and breeches, withthe other garments hanging over his arm.

  "Give her these," he said. "She can button the coat around her waistfor a skirt. She'd better go somewhere and get out of that soaking wetnight-dress----"

  Eve, crouched on the sand, trying to wring out and twist up her drenchedhair, looked up at Stormont as he came toward her holding our Darragh'sdry clothing.

  "You'd better do what you can with these," he said, trying to speakcarelessly. ... "_He_ says you'd better chuck -- what you'rewearing----"

  She nodded in flushed comprehension. Stormont walked back to his horse,his boots slopping water at every stride.

  "I don't know any place nearer than Ghost Lake Inn," he said ... "exceptHarrod's."

  "That's where we're going, Jack," said Darragh cheerfully.

  "That's _your_ place, isn't it?"

  "It is. But I don't want Eve to know it. ... I think it better sheshould not know me except as Hal Smith -- for the present, anyway.You'll see to that, won't you?"

  "As you wish, Jim. ... Only, if we go to your own house-----"

  "We're not going to the main house. She wouldn't, anyway. Clinch astaught that girl to hate the very name of Harrod -- hate every foot offorest that the Harrod game keepers patrol. She wouldn't cross mythreshold to save her life."

  "I don't understand, but -- it's all right -- whatever _you_ say, Jim."

  "I'll tell you the whole business some day. But where I'm going to takeyou now is into a brand new camp which I ordered built last spring.It's within a mile of the State Forest border. Eve won't know tat it'sHarrod property. I've a hatchery there and the State lets me have a manin exchange for free fry. When I get there I'll post my man.

  It will be a roof for to-night, anyway, and breakfast in the morning,whenever you're ready."

  "How far is it?"

  "Only about three miles east of here."

  "That's the thing to do, then," said Stormont bluntly.

  He dropped one sopping-wet sleeve over his horse's neck, asking care notto touch the handle. He was thinking of the handful of gems in hispocket; and he wondered why Darragh had said nothing about the emptycase for which he had so recklessly risked his life.

  What this whole business was about Stormont had no notion. But he knewDarragh. There was sufficient to leave him tranquil, and perfectlycertain that whatever Darragh was doing must be the right thing to do.

  Yet -- Eve had swum Star Pond with her mouth filled with jewels.

  W
hen she had handed the morocco box to Quintana, Stormont now realisedthat she must have played her last card on the utterly desperate chancethat Quintana might go away without examining the case.

  Evidently she had emptied the case before she left her room. Herecollected that, during all that followed, Eve had not uttered a singleword. He knew why, now. How could she speak with her mouth full of(diamonds)?

  A slight sound from the shore caused him to turn. Eve was coming towardhim in the dusk, moving painfully on her wounded feet. Darragh'sflannel shirt and his hunting coat buttoned around her slender waistclothed her.

  The next instant he was beside her, lifting her in both arms.

  As he placed her in the saddle and adjusted one