nty of friends _now_."

"He shall find them strong friends, too," exclaimed Constance. "Mrs.
O'Meara, we will stir up the whole town."

"Then you'll get your way," put in Bathurst. "And now. Miss Wardour, are
you ready to hear the end of the mystery surrounding the Wardour
robbery, and the Wardour diamonds?"

All eyes were turned at once upon the speaker.

"Because I have asked you all to meet me here to-day that I might tell
it," he went on. "It will contain much that is new to you all, and it
will interest you all. I know Miss Wardour will wish you all to hear the
end of her diamond case, and the fate of her robbers."

"Of course! You are perfectly right, Mr. Bathurst," said Constance.
"Doctor Heath cuts more of a figure than he knows in this business, and
Ray has staid out in the cold long enough. Go on, Mr. Bathurst, expose
me in all my iniquity. But have you _really_ found the robbers?"

"Listen," said the detective, and while they all fixed upon him their
gravest attention he began.

CHAPTER XLV.

TOLD BY A DETECTIVE.

"For several years past," began Mr. Bathurst, "the city and many of the
wealthier suburban towns have been undergoing a systematic overhauling.
Through the network of big thefts, and little thefts, petit larcenies
and bank robberies, there has run one clear-cut burglarious specialty--a
style of depredations noticeably similar in case after case; alike in
'design and execution,' and always baffling to the officers.

[Illustration: Bathurst telling the story.]

"I allude to a series of robberies of jewelry and plate, a succession of
provoking thefts, monstrous, enough to be easily traced, but executed
with such exceeding _finesse_ that, in no single instance, has the
property been recovered, or the robbers run to earth.

"These fastidious thieves never took money in large amounts, only took
plate when it was of the purest metal and least cumbersome sort; and
always aimed for the brightest, the purest, the costliest diamonds.
Diamonds indeed seemed their specialty.

"This gang has operated in such a gingerly, gentlemanly, mysterious
manner, and has raided for diamonds so long and so successfully, that
they have come to be called, among New York detectives, The Diamond
Coterie, although no man knew whether they numbered two, or twenty.

"They could always recognize their handiwork, however, and whenever the
news came that some lady in the city, or suburbs, had lost her diamonds,