"Maxwell Grant - The Shadow - 202 - Gems of Doom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grant Maxwell)

were old and somber; their deep doorways and heavy step rails struck Blendon as the very sort of
shelter that crooks would enjoy. Plucking Traal's sleeve, Blendon hoarsed:

"We're in danger here! In danger, I tell you -"

The door of the mansion opened so suddenly that Blendon's cringing weight carried him through into a
little vestibule. The portly jeweler would have sprawled, if Traal hadn't caught him.

As the door closed, Blendon turned to the man who had admitted them, expecting to see a servant.
Instead, he found a tall, gray-haired man, whose long, deep-lined face showed an expression of alarm.

"Kreld!" exclaimed Blendon. "It's quite all right. I was just a bit disturbed, outdoors. My imagination got
the better of me."

"Blendon was frightened by the shadows," remarked Traal, with a touch of sarcasm in his dry tone. "I
must agree that there were many of them, but none were real."

Both Blendon and Traal noted that Kreld had bolted the big front door. He did the same with the inner
door, and glanced doubtfully at its panel of plate glass. He led them across the hall, past an unlighted
living room, and up a stairway to the second floor.

The lights of a study greeted them. Once inside, Kreld closed the door and gave a sigh of relief. He
motioned his visitors to chairs, and took his seat behind a large desk in front of a good-sized safe that
was obviously of modern construction.

There were whiskey and soda on the desk, together with glasses and a dish of ice. In a steadied tone,
Kreld suggested that the visitors have a drink.

Both accepted, and Kreld joined them. After a long swallow, the gray-haired man put down his glass and
looked toward Traal.

"Did you bring the uncut diamonds?"

Traal nodded. He produced a chamois bag from his pocket, opened it, and poured a pile of glistening
pebbles on the desk. Kreld examined the diamonds with a practiced eye.

"There they are," announced Traal. "The profit from those gems should net you a tidy fortune, Mr. Kreld.
I wish I had a quarter million to spare. I couldn't ask for a better investment."

Kreld looked to Blendon, who nodded his approval. Still studying the stones, Kreld took another
swallow from his glass, then leaned back in his chair.

"The purchase is quite satisfactory," he declared. "I agree with you that New York will soon become the
diamond center of the world, in place of Amsterdam. With expert diamond cutters coming to America,
stones like these can be manufactured into salable jewelry. I shall want more of them later, Traal."

The promise pleased Traal. He leaned back in his own chair and finished his drink in satisfied style. Traal
had made his sale; it was Blendon's turn to make a proposition.

"WHY not deal through our association, Kreld?" questioned Blendon. "Our membership includes the