Mike put the revolver in his pocket. That was what Burt was waiting for. With a catlike spring he landed directly in front of Quick, and planted his fist between that gentleman’s eyes. The attack was wholly unexpected by the dive-keeper. Mike fell like a log. Burt turned the prostrate man over, and took possession of his revolver. Then he allowed Quick to rise. The latter was mad as a wild bull. He made a rush at the detective. Again Burt’s fist shot out. The result was the same as before. The bartender and several others who were in the front room now appeared. Turning to the bartender, Burt said: “Sweep that thing into the gutter.” Then, drawing his own revolver, he made his way from the room, and none sought to bar his progress. It may readily be assumed that Enoch Cook lost no time in getting out of that neighborhood. He went directly across the city, and brought up at a small hotel on West Street. Without asking questions of the clerk, he went up-stairs and entered a room on the second floor. A small, wiry, and hatchet-faced man arose from a lounge upon which he had been stretched. This was the Honorable Richard Kidd. “What’s the matter, Enoch? Have you been interviewing a ghost?” “Why do you ask that question?” “You’re as pale as death,” said Kidd; “what caused it?” “The diamond.” “The diamond, eh?” Kidd was quite wide-awake now. “What do you suppose?” asked Cook; “this fellow Stolburst has put a detective on your track. Ain’t that pleasant news?” “How do you know?” “I’ve been talking with the detective,” replied Enoch. “How did he come to know you?” inquired Kidd. “He and I used to be schoolmates, but I don’t understand how he knew that Sam Henry and Enoch Cook were one.” “This fellow knows we have the stone, eh?” “Sure.” “I don’t see we have anything to fear from him.” “Why not?” “Suppose he knows of you pushing Aimee Jacquet overboard when our ship was in mid-ocean?” remarked Enoch. It was now Kidd who became very pale. “You dropped no hint of that?” he said, in a low and tremulous whisper. “Do you take me to be a fool?” “The captain of the vessel reported that my wife, Aimee, committed suicide by leaping overboard while suffering from an attack of temporary insanity.” “She was not insane.” “Of course not; but didn’t I bribe the ship’s surgeon to say he had noticed the woman’s mind giving way for several days before she was lost?” “Dick,” said Cook, “I never could understand why you wanted pretty Aimee out of the way after the hard work you had in succeeding to have her desert her husband.” Kidd laughed, and then all at once he became very serious again. “One night when drunk--it was the night before we sailed for New York--I told her all about the diamond. The first day out my wife and I had a little tiff. The quarrel grew in dimensions, and she several times taunted me with being a thief.