THE EMERALD NECKLACE.

“Early this afternoon,” the lieutenant went on as the boys gathered about him, “I was interviewed by a reporter for the Daily Planet.”

“Frank’s father owns that newspaper,” Jimmie suggested.

“Yes,” said the officer, “and that is why I thought Frank might know something of the origin of the inquiry. The reporter was not slow in getting at the point he was in my rooms to discuss. Almost the first question he asked me was this: ‘Is it true that the government has ordered you to the Canal Zone to investigate an alleged plot to blow up the Gatun dam?’ Coming from a reporter, as it did, the question knocked me all in a heap.”

Ned Nestor leaned forward with a new interest showing in his face.

“I should think so,” he said. “What did you tell him?”

“I tried to bluff him out at first, but soon learned that he knew more about the Zone situation than I did. He didn’t get much information from me, but I learned from him that the Daily Planet is wise to the whole situation, as the boys say. Now, the question is this: ‘Where did the editor secure his information?’ I asked him in so many words, but he only laughed at me.”

“The place to go for that information,” Nestor suggested, “is to the editor himself. Mr. Shaw would, of course, know all about it.”

“That is exactly what I thought,” said the lieutenant, “so I lost no time in getting to the editorial rooms. Mr. Shaw was there, and treated me very courteously, but the only satisfaction I could get from him was the information that he knew something of what was going on, and was doing his best to secure enough facts regarding the matter for a news story.”

“I may be able to get more than that out of him,” George ventured.

“I doubt it,” the lieutenant said, “for he is afraid some rival newspaper will get an inkling of the matter and beat him out on the sensation he is preparing. It seems that his men have discovered documentary evidence of some sort, papers which might be of great value in the hands of the government.”

“Wouldn’t he give you a hint as to the contents of the papers?” asked Ned.

“No; he wouldn’t even give me an idea as to the parties he suspects. I think he might have done that, in the interest of good government. Well, of course his information is his own, but he might have trusted me not to betray his confidence to his rivals. I must confess that I don’t like his attitude in the matter.”

“The papers may contain nothing the government could use,” Ned observed, “although their value to the newspaper may be great.”

“I would like to get a look at them, all the same,” said Gordon.

“I wish he would call off his reporters,” Ned went on. “If they go about the city asking the questions they asked of you, the plotters will soon know that they are being watched, and that will make their capture more difficult.”

“That is the idea,” exclaimed the lieutenant. “Perhaps we can get him to let the case alone for a few days.”

“That is doubtful,” Ned said, “but there is one ray of light in the situation. If the plotters find out that the editor of the Daily Planet has documentary evidence against them, they may try to steal the papers, and so disclose their identity.”

“I would steal them myself if I got a chance,” laughed Gordon. “The government needs every pointer it can get.”

“Better let the others try first,” advised Nestor, with a smile. “It really does begin to look as if the first move in this Panama game might be made right here in New York.”

“I’d like to know where Shaw got the pointer,” Gordon said, in a moment. “I thought at first that Frank might have let out something in asking permission to go to the Zone.”

“He doesn’t know a thing about it,” Jimmie put in, warm in the defense of his friend. “How could he drop a hint, then?”

“There was something said about the situation in Panama before we left the Sierra del Fierro mountains in Mexico,” said Nestor, “but I can’t for the life of me tell just what it was.”

“It was nothing definite,” said Harry Stevens, “for I had forgotten all about it. There was some talk about our going to the Canal Zone, but nothing was decided on, and the plot against the government wasn’t mentioned. At least that is my best recollection of the talk there.”

“There was something more than that said,” the lieutenant observed, “but that is unimportant now. The thing to do, if we can, is to stop this investigation by the Daily Planet. The reporters will let the cat out of the bag and the interests back of the plot will either act immediately, before we can check them, or delay the matter until everything in connection with it is forgotten.”

“If the papers collected by the Daily Planet people give any inkling of the motive which is leading the plotters on,” Nestor said, “we really ought to get hold of them.”

“I believe you are as bad as the lieutenant, and would steal them yourself if you got a chance,” grinned Jimmie.

“I would at least try to get a look at them,” was the reply.

“Look here, fellows!” George Tolford cried, excitedly, “I think I know where Mr. Shaw got his pointer. It is this way: Mr. Shaw is interested in Zone property, and owns a large block of stock in an emerald mine. He spent most of the past winter on the Isthmus, and there is where he unearthed the story. You take it from me that this is right.”

“That view of the case makes it all the more imperative that we learn the contents of the papers Mr. Shaw has,” said the lieutenant, rising and pacing the room excitedly. “If he got his information on the Isthmus, it is more than likely that it points out not only the motive but also the interest which is planning the outrage. I must send some high official to talk with Mr. Shaw. He is interested in an emerald mine, you say?” he asked.

“Sure he is,” replied George Tolford. “Frank told me all about it not long ago, at the time he showed me an emerald necklace his father gave him.”

“An emerald necklace,” repeated Jimmie. “What you gettin’ at? Boys don’t wear necklaces.”

“This emerald necklace,” George went on, “is as old as the hills. Frank says the stones were taken out of a mine in a valley in the interior of Colombia four hundred years ago. There are twenty-five stones, each weighing over six carats. Taken separately, the stones are worth a thousand each, and together their price is fabulous. Frank says the necklace formerly belonged to some secret order of natives, and that $100,000 has been offered for it because of the perfectly matched stones, and because of its wonderful history. It is a peach, I can tell you that, and Frank will never go broke as long as he sticks to it.”

“I didn’t know that there were any emeralds down that way,” Glen Howard said. “We will bring a couple of carloads back with us.”

“Emeralds down that way!” repeated Peter Fenton. “Why, the best emeralds in the world are found in South America. The very best are found in veins traversing clay-slate, hornblende slate, and granite, in a little valley not far from Bogota, the capital of the United States of Colombia. Inferior stones are found imbedded in mica slate in Europe. You see I’ve been reading up on South America.”

“It looks that way,” laughed Lieutenant Gordon. “I must get a look at Frank’s emerald necklace before I leave New York.”

“We may find one like it in the ruins