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Tom Swift Among the Diamond Makers

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the man who had knocked on the window. "I wish I was there, instead of here," mused the lad. "Still I can't leave, or a thief might come in. Perhaps that was the game, and one of the gang is hanging around, hoping the store will be deserted, so he can enter and take what he likes." Tom had read of such cases, and he at once resolved that he would not only remain in the jewelry shop, but that he would lock the door, which he at once proceeded to do. Then he breathed easier. The town of Shopton, in the outskirts of which Tom lived with his father, and where the scene above narrated took place, was none too well lighted at night, and the lad had his doubts about the jeweler catching the oddly-acting man, especially as the latter had a good start. "But some one may head him off," reasoned Tom. "Though if they do catch him, I don't see what they can prove against him. Hello, here I am carrying this diamond pin around. I might lose it. Guess I'll put it back on the tray." He replaced in the proper receptacle one of the pins he bad been examining when the excitement occurred. "I wonder if Mary will like that?" he said, softly. "I hope she does. Perhaps it would be better if she could come here herself and pick out one--" Tom's musing was suddenly interrupted by a sharp tattoo on the glass door of the jewelry shop. With a start, he looked up, to see staring in on him the face of the man who had been there before--the man of whom the jeweler was even then in chase. "Whywhy" stammered Tom. The man knocked again. "Tom--Tom Swift!" he called. "Don't you know me?" "Know you--you?" repeated the lad. "Yes don't you remember Earthquake Island--how we were nearly killed there--don't you remember Mr. Jenks?" "Mr. Jenks?" Tom was so startled that he could only repeat words after the strange man, who was talking to him from outside the glass door. "Yes, Mr. Jenks," was the reply. "Mr. Barcoe Jenks, who makes diamonds. I saw you in the store about to buy a diamond--I wanted to tell you not to--I'll give you a better diamond than you can buy--I just arrived in this place--I must have a private talk with you--Come out--I'll share a wonderful secret with you." A flood of memory came to Tom. He did recall the very strange man who walked around Earthquake Island--where Tom and some friends had been marooned recently--walked about with a pocketful of what he said were diamonds. Now Barcoe Jenks was here. "I must see you privately, Tom Swift," went on Mr. Jenks, as he once more tapped on the glass. "Don't waste money buying diamonds, when you and I can make better ones. Where can I have a talk with you? I--" Mr. Jenks suddenly looked down the dimly- lighted street. "They're coming back!" he cried. "I don't want to be seen. I'll call at your house later to-night--be on the watch for me--until then--good-by!" He waved his hand, and was gone in an instant. Tom stood staring at the glass door. He hardly knew whether to believe it or not--perhaps it was all a dream. He pinched himself to make sure that he was awake. Very substantial flesh met his thumb and finger, and he felt the pain. "I'm awake all right," he murmured. "But Barcoe Jenks here--and still talking that nonsense about his manufactured diamonds. I think he must be crazy. I wonder--" Once more the lad's musing was interrupted. He heard a murmur of excited voices outside the store, on the street. Then the door of the jewelry shop was tried. Mr. Track's face was pressed against the glass. "Open the door! Let me in, Tom!" he called. "I've caught the thief," and as the lad unlocked the portal he saw that the jeweler held by the arm a ragged lad. "Ah; you scoundrel! I've caught you!" cried the diamond merchant, shaking the small chap, while Tom looked on, more mystified than ever. CHAPTER II - A MIDNIGHT VISIT While Mr. Track, the jeweler, and several citizens, attracted by the chase after the supposed thief, are crowded into the store, anxious to hear explanations of the strange affair, I will take the opportunity to tell you something of Tom Swift, the lad who is to figure in this story. Many of you have already made his acquaintance, when he has been speeding about in his airship or fast electric runabout, and to others we will state that our hero first made his bow to the public in the book called "Tom Swift and His Motor-Cycle," the initial volume of this series. In that story there was related how Tom made the acquaintance of an odd individual, named Mr. Wakefield Damon, who was continually blessing himself, some part of his anatomy, or his possessions. Mr. Damon was riding a motor-cycle, and it started to climb a tree, to his pain and fright. Afterward Tom purchased the machine, and had many adventures on it, including a chase after a gang of men who had stolen a valuable patent model belonging to Mr. Swift. Mr. Swift, and his son were both inventors. They lived together in a fine house in the suburbs of Shopton, New York, and with them dwelt Mrs. Baggert, the housekeeper (for Tom's mother was dead), and also Garret Jackson, an expert engineer, who aided the young inventor and his father in perfecting many machines. There was also another semi-member of the household, to wit, Eradicate Sampson, an eccentric colored man, who owned a mule called Boomerang. Eradicate did odd jobs around the place, and the mule assisted his owner--that is when the mule felt like it. In the second volume of the series, entitled "Tom Swift and His Motor-Boat," there was related the incidents following a pursuit after a gang of unprincipled men, who sought to get Possession of some of Mr. Swift's patents, and it was while in this boat that Tom, his father, and a friend, Ned Newton, rescued from Lake Carlopa a Mr. John Sharp, who fell from his burning balloon. Mr. Sharp was a skilled aeronaut, and after his recovery he joined Tom in building a big airship, called the Red Cloud. Tom's adventures in this craft are set down in detail in the third volume of the series, called "Tom Swift and His Airship." Not only did he and Mr. Sharp and Mr. Damon make a great trip, but they captured some bank robbers, and incidentally cleared themselves from the imputation of having looted the vault of seventy-five thousand dollars, which charge was fostered by a

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