E. Phillips Oppenheim

“ Mr. Cray smiled. “The letter is here,” he said.
A little exclamation broke from King's lips. Mr. Cray moved down to where the jeweler was packing up the necklace.
“May I be allowed to have a look at that?” he asked. “Very fine amber, isn't it?”
“The necklace does not belong to us,” the jeweler replied, proceeding with his task. “We cannot allow clients' property to be examined.”
Mr. Cray turned toward his companion, and King leaned against the counter. He whispered a word or two to the jeweler, who was suddenly pale. ”

“ Mr. Cray half rose in his seat. He was a little uneasy.
“Say, has she spotted you yet?” he asked his companion.
King shook his head.
“No, I've been in the background all the time.”
“Follow me into the shop, then,” Cray directed. “You can ask for something or other. We can't afford to hang about.”
Mr. Cray stepped to the pavement, crossed it with incredible swiftness, and entered the shop. Mrs. Wieller was the only customer present. Before her on the counter was stretched her amber necklace, just drawn from the box.
The shopman appeared to be examining the catch. ”

“ Sara demanded a little irrelevantly.
Mr. Cray found his new friend studying the tape of the news-ticker.
“She has many,” Mr. King answered. “She calls herself at present Mrs. Jacob Wieller of Cincinnati.”
“And why is she dining alone with my husband?”
Mr. King smiled inscrutably.
“Even the most successful secret-service agents in the world,” he said, “have their weak point. Mrs. Wieller, although she must be forty years old, preserves a romantic disposition. ”

“ The jeweler obeyed orders. Cray and his companion postponed the examination of Mrs. Wieller's necklace and entered into an exhaustive scrutiny of the whole stock of waistcoat buttons. In about twenty-five minutes the shop door was pushed open, and a tall, dark man wearing a single eyeglass, and fashionably attired, entered the place. King, with the celerity of a cat, disappeared behind a screen. ”

“ From my inquiries on the ship, I learned that she has pursued your husband with attentions from the day the steamer left Sandy Hook, attentions which I might add were obviously undesired. It was my advice at once that your husband should not lose sight of the lady. I may tell you that while he engages her attention at dinner, her rooms are being thoroughly searched by our agents.”
“Say, this affair becomes interesting!” Mr. Cray declared, his natural instincts asserting themselves. “I guess you are satisfied now, Sara?” ”

“ King, too, entered at that moment and waited at the farther end of the place.
“The catch, madam,” the jeweler announced, “is in perfect order, and will stand any reasonable strain. If, as you suggest, it slipped, it must have been imperfectly fastened. If you take care to drive it home—so,” he added, “you will never have any difficulty.”
MRS. WIELLER smiled and picked up her gold bag. She bought some trifle of jewelry while Cray was selecting his safety-pins.
“Can I send the necklace anywhere for you, madam?” the man asked. ”

“ Cray murmured soothingly, “but I guess you've got to remember this, Sara: in diplomacy and all intelligence business, judgment goes only by results. George was intrusted with that letter, and it was stolen from him. ”

“ They were still lingering over their cocktails before descending to luncheon, when King was ushered in. He closed the door behind him. For such an unruffled person his appearance was almost remarkable. ”