three men, and then the beady black eyes came to rest on the
silent, outstretched figure of the old man. He started forward
impulsively; the grip of Detective-Sergeant Connelly on his arm
stopped him.

"You're my prisoner!"

"Yes, I understand," said Mr. Czenki impatiently. He didn't even
look up; he was still gazing at the figure on the floor.

"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" demanded Chief
Arkwright coldly.

Mr. Czenki met the accusing stare of the chief squarely for an
instant, then the keen eyes shifted to the slightly flushed face of
Mr. Birnes and lingered there interrogatively.

"I have nothing whatever to say," he replied at last, and he drew one
hand slowly across his thin, scarred face. "Yes, I understand," he
repeated absently. "I have nothing to say."

CHAPTER XIV

CAUGHT IN THE NET

Doris looked down in great, dry-eyed horror upon the body of this
withered old man whom she had loved, and the thin thread of life
within her all but snapped. It had come; the premonition of disaster
had been fulfilled; the last of her blood had been sacrificed to the
mercilessly glittering diamonds--father, brother and now him! Mr.
Wynne's face went white, and his teeth closed fiercely; he had loved
this old man, too; then the shock passed and he turned anxiously to
Doris to receive the limp, inert figure in his arms. She had
fainted.

"Well, what do _you_ know about it?" inquired Chief Arkwright
abruptly.

Mr. Wynne was himself again instantly--the calm, self-certain
perfectly poised young man of affairs. He glanced at the chief,
then shot a quick, inquiring look at Mr. Czenki. Almost
imperceptibly the diamond expert shook his head. Then Mr. Wynne's
eyes turned upon Mr. Birnes. There had been triumph in the
detective's face until that moment, but, under the steady, meaning
glare which was directed at him, triumph faded to a sort of wonder,
followed by a vague sense of uneasiness, and he read a command in the
fixed eyes--a command to silence. Curiously enough it reminded him
that he was in the employ of Mr. Latham, and that there were certain
business secrets to be protected. He regarded the coroner's
physician, hastily summoned for a perfunctory examination.

"Well?" demanded the chief again.

"Nothing--of this," replied Mr. Wynne. "I think, Doctor," and he
addressed the physician, "that she needs you more than he does. We
know only too well what's the matter with him."

T