Edward Phillips Oppenheim

“ The street was continually blocked with motor cars and taxicabs. On the other side of the way streams of people were moving all the time. I recognized many acquaintances even in those few minutes. And then suddenly I saw the gray motor car. I held out my hand to Mr. Bundercombe.
Without the slightest attempt at concealment, the man Mr. Bundercombe had called Dagger Rodwell alighted from the motor and stood for a moment looking into the windows of Tarteran's shop before he entered. ”

“ Once or twice she stopped to listen. Once, as though drawn by some fascination she was powerless to resist, she moved to the window and looked down into the street. Mr. Bundercombe remained motionless and I followed his example. At the back of my cubicle was a window from which I could still gain a view of the pavement. The streets were thronged with people, and I noticed that the motor car, which at first I had missed, was standing in a side street, almost opposite. ”

“ Mr. Bundercombe and I descended into the street. I was feeling a little dazed. Mr. Bundercombe led the way into the Tarteran establishment, which was still in a state of disorder. He asked to speak to the principal, who came forward, still looking very perturbed.
"Sorry to hear of this robbery!" Mr. Bundercombe said. "Have they caught the fellow?"
"They caught the man in the motor car," the manager groaned; "but he had no jewels on him and my people can't swear to him. He seems to have a very coherent story." ”

“ He's got the finest necklace in the shop with him, gems worth twenty thousand pounds."
Mr. Bundercombe nodded sympathetically.
"Have you offered a reward yet?"
"We can't do everything in ten minutes!" the manager replied, a little testily. "We shall offer one, of course."
"What amount are you prepared to go to?" Mr. Bundercombe asked.
The man looked at him eagerly.
"Do you mean, sir——" he began.
Mr. Bundercombe stretched out his hands.
"You may search me!" he interrupted. "I have nothing in the way of jewels on me. My name is Joseph H. Bundercombe and I have a house in Prince's Gardens. ”

“ Stanley did not leave this country for South Africa with a hundred pounds in his pocket."
"And the man?" I asked.
Mr. Bundercombe was thoroughly enjoying himself. He drew his chair a little closer to mine and waited until he was quite sure that no one was within earshot.
"The man," he replied, "is one of the world's most famous criminals."
"He doesn't look it," I remarked, glancing across the room with some interest.
Mr. Bundercombe smiled.
"Great criminals are not all of the same type," he reminded me reprovingly. ”

“ Bundercombe's obvious excitement. I, too, had the feeling that we were on the brink of an adventure. He made me stand up against the wall, by the side of the window, so that I could see down into the street. He himself was farther back in the room.
"Follow my lead closely in everything, Paul!" he directed. "Meantime keep your eye glued on the pavement. If things turn out as I expect there will be a gray touring motor car outside Tarteran's shop in the course of a few minutes. From that car will descend Dagger Rodwell. He will enter Tarteran's. ”

“ He defended himself and did it brilliantly. In the end he got off. There is scarcely a person, however, who doubts but that he was guilty."
I looked across at the subject of our discussion with renewed interest.
"He shot him, I suppose?" I asked.
"On the contrary," Mr. Bundercombe replied, "he throttled him. The man has the sinews of an ox. The second time I saw him was at a dancing-hall in New York. He was there with a very gay party indeed; but one of them, the wealthiest, mysteriously disappeared. Rodwell—Dagger Rodwell was his nickname—came to England. ”

“ That is where you people who don't understand the cult of criminology make your foolish mistakes. Our friend opposite is, without a doubt, of gentle though not of aristocratic birth. I know nothing of his bringing up, but his instincts do all that is necessary for him. ”

“ Bundercombe, however, only shook his head, with a gentle smile upon his lips.
"If you're not a cop and you won't stand in, what in the name of glory are you?" Rodweil spluttered at last.
"I am afraid I must describe myself as a meddler," Mr. Bundercombe confessed; "an intervener. I stand midway between the law and the criminal. I sympathize wholly with neither. I admire the skill and courage you have shown to-day, but I also sympathize with the head of that establishment whom you have relieved of possibly many thousand pounds' worth of diamonds. I could not——"
Rodwell made his effort, but Mr. ”