"Ah, just so--as long as he operated with his own means and with his own money. But suppose the market suddenly goes against such a man, and he is face to face with a tremendous loss, possibly ruin, what does such a man do nine times out of ten?" "Blow his brains out." "Yes--sometimes that, but often he succumbs to temptation, and takes what isn't his----" "Then you think that Kenneth----" "I think nothing. I want to know. He has come back from Africa a changed man. He is surly, morose, secretive. That man has something on his conscience. We must find out what it is. It is up to you to ferret it out. Set your detectives to work. The company will spend the last cent in its treasury to find those stones. You must trail his associates, find out where he goes. The diamonds are probably right here in New York. Who first took Kenneth to Wall Street?" "Signor Keralio----" "Ah--always that fellow! Who is he?" "An adventurer of the worst type. I have had him shadowed by one of my men. He has a police record as a dangerous criminal of international reputation." "And Kenneth's valet--that fellow Francois." "He was formerly in Keralio's employ." The President rose. Extending his hand to the lawyer, he said: "That's enough. I don't think the trail will be hard to pick up. Spare no expense. Good night!" CHAPTER XV The last guest had gone. One by one the lights in the Traynor residence were extinguished. The servants, tired after an exciting and strenuous day, had gone to their quarters. In the hall downstairs, the grandfather's clock rang out its musical chimes and then, in ponderous tones, slowly struck the twelve hours of midnight. The master of the house was sitting at the desk in the library, looking over some papers. From time to time he glanced significantly, first at the clock and then at the corner where Helen and Ray were chatting over the events of the day. At last the young girl took the hint. Jumping up, she exclaimed good naturedly: "How selfish I am to be sitting gossiping here when poor Kenneth is so tired. Go to bed, both of you. I'm so sleepy myself I can hardly keep awake. Good night!" "Good night, dear!" said Helen, rising and kissing her. "Good night, Ken! Pleasant dreams," cried the young girl as she left the room. "Good night!" he responded hoarsely. The sound of her footsteps died away in the distance and Helen and the gambler sat there in silence. He watched her furtively, trying to guess the trend of her thoughts, his eyes bloodshot with wine, feasting on every line of her girlish figure.