Sammy didn’t answer, and the Indian continued: “I searched the house and was satisfied that the bag was not there, and then I learned that certain things had been delivered at your office. I came down here and saw the bag sitting here. That was early yesterday morning, while the janitor was sweeping.”
“Damn him!” said Sammy.
“It wasn’t his fault,” said the Indian. “I forget what excuse I gave him, but you may be sure it was a legitimate one. Yesterday and today I have spent watching you to be sure of your attitude.”
“Well?” said Sammy.
“Well,” returned the Indian, “I had hoped that the proof which I have would secure the bag, untampered with and without question or delay.”
“What proof?” asked Sammy.
“A careful description of the jewels made by the well-known firm which has insured them and which would at the slightest notice put detectives on their track. Also, a letter from her Royal Highness directing that these jewels be delivered to me.”
“And you expect to get these on such trumped-up evidence?”
“Yes,” said the Indian.
“And suppose I refuse?”
“I shall persuade you not to.”
Sammy thought the matter over. “Say,” said he, “can’t you and I come to some agreement? Why, here is a fortune. Is there any use wasting it on Matthew and that Princess?”
“We can come to an agreement,” said the Indian.
“What?” asked Sammy.
“You have,” said the Indian, “an unset diamond in your pocket which, with a certificate of ownership that I could give you, would easily be worth ten thousand dollars. You may keep it.”
Sammy rose in a rage. “I can not only keep that,” he said, “but I can keep the whole damn shooting-match and—” But he didn’t get any further. The Indian had arisen and showed in the folds of his half-Oriental dress a long, wicked-looking dagger.
“I should regret,” he said, “the use of violence, but her Royal Highness’ orders are peremptory. She would rather avoid, if possible, the police. I am therefore going to take these jewels to her. If afterward you should wish to prosecute her, you can easily do it.”
Sammy quickly came to his senses: “Go ahead,” he said.
The Indian deftly packed the jewels, always managing to face Sammy in the process, Finally, with a very polite good night, he started to the door.
“Say,” said Sammy, “where are you going to take those jewels?”
“I have orders,” said the Indian slowly, “to place them in the hands of Matthew Towns.”
The door closed softly after him. Sammy seated himself and thought the matter over. He had a very beautiful diamond in his pocket which he examined with interest. His own feeling was that it would make a very splendid engagement ring for Sara. Then he started. … Suppose these jewels were given to Matthew, or part of them, and suppose Sara got wind of it? Would she ever give Matthew up? That was a serious matter—a very serious matter. In fact, she must mot get wind of it. Then Sammy frowned. Good Lord! He had actually had his hands on something that looked like at least one million dollars. Ah, well! It was dangerous business. Only fools stole jewels of that sort.
A messenger boy entered with a telegram.
“Have decided to go to Atlantic City. Do not expect me until I write.
VII
“I’ve got a job,” said Matthew, early in June.
Kautilya turned quickly and looked at him with something of apprehension in her gaze. It was a beautiful day. Kautilya had been arranging and cleaning, singing and smiling to herself, and then stopping suddenly and standing with upturned face as though listening to inner or far-off voices. Matthew had been gone all the morning and now returned laden with bundles and with a sheaf of long-stemmed roses, red and white, which Kautilya seized with a low cry and began to drape like cloud and sun upon the table.
Then she hurried to the phonograph and put a record on, singing with its full voice—a flare of strange music, haunting, alluring, loving. It poured out of the room, and Matthew joined in, and their blended voices dropped on the weary, dirty street. The tired stopped and listened. The children danced. Then at last:
“I’ve got a job,” said Matthew; and answering her look and silence with a caress, he added: “I got it myself—it’s just the work of a common laborer. I’m going to dig in the new subway. I shall get four dollars a day.”
“I am glad,” said Kautilya. “Tell me all about it.”
“There is not much, I’ve noticed the ads and today I went out and applied. There was one of Sammy’s gang there. He said I wouldn’t like this—that he could get me on as foreman or timekeeper. I told him I wanted to dig.”
“To dig, that’s it,” said Kautilya. “To get down to reality, Matthew. For us now, life begins. Come, my man, we have played and, oh! such sweet and beautiful play. Now the time of work dawns. We must go about our Father’s business. Let’s talk about it. Let’s stand upon the peaks again where once we stood and survey the kingdoms of this world and plot our way and plan our conquests. Oh, Matthew, Matthew, we are rulers and masters! We start to dig, remaking the world. Too long, too long we have stood motionless in darkness and dross. Up! To the work, in air and sun and heaven. How is our world, and when and where?”
They sat down to a simple lunch and Matthew talked.
“We must dig it out with my shovel and your quick wit. Here in America black folk must help overthrow the rule of the rich by distributing wealth more evenly first among themselves and then in alliance with white labor, to establish democratic control of industry. During the process they must keep step and hold tight hands with the other struggling darker peoples.”
“Difficult—difficult,” mused Kautilya, “for the others have so different a path. In my India, for
