“An idea struck me, chief,” explained Parkins. “You had ordered a complete round-up; but you had left Canonby out of it. I called the Yard and ordered headquarters to fetch him to Rudlow’s.”
“Which was done,” added Wilton, “and Mr. Canonby desires speech with you, chief. He insisted that he could talk only if all of us came here to Tunbridge Wells.”
“That is what I declared,” expressed Canonby, in a shaky tone. “I said that we must be brought here, under guard. I made that statement, once I had heard of the robbery.”
“You have information for us?” demanded Lewsham. “Come! Speak quickly, man!”
Puzzled looks were everywhere; but neither The Shadow nor Harry Vincent shared them. Nor did the rajah of Delapore. He was standing by the desk, his lips curled in a contemptuous smile. He was watching Canonby. Again, the jeweler trembled. Then, finding his tongue, he pointed an accusing finger straight at the rajah.
“There he stands!” exclaimed Canonby. “He is the thief you seek! He is The Harvester! Yes, The Harvester — this man who calls himself the Rajah of Delapore!”
CHAPTER XIX. THE RAJAH PASSES
COMPLETE hush followed Canonby’s accusation. Men stared rigidly when they heard the jeweler’s words. Yet listeners were impressed; for they knew The Harvester’s incredible ability to change his guise at will. It was not inconceivable that the Rajah of Delapore should be the culprit.
Sidney Lewsham sat motionless. It was Sir Ernest Jennup who found voice. He looked from Canonby to the rajah; then back to the jeweler. In firm tone, Sir Ernest gave an order:
“State your reasons, Canonby, for this accusation.”
“I shall,” nodded Canonby. “When his excellency arrived in London, he came to me at my shop in Old Bond Street. He was accompanied by his secretary, a man named Ranworthy.
“The rajah wished me to be party to a curious transaction. He showed me false jewels, which were of fine appearance, though manufactured of paste. He declared that he intended to arrange their sale.
“I was puzzled, until he explained his purpose. He produced a large sum in Bank of England notes — a quarter million, sterling — and requested that I keep the money in my vault. He declared that on a specified date, he would request me to appear with the money. At that time, my duty would be to buy the false gems from him.”
“Was that time to-day?” put in Lewsham.
“It proved to be,” stated Canonby. “Last night, his excellency called me by telephone and told me to bring the money to the offices of Rudlow, Limited. To-day, I did so. Here are the false gems, which I purchased.”
Canonby tugged two bags from his coat pockets. Opening them, he flung a glimmering clatter of false stones that rolled about the blotting pad on Craybaw’s desk.
“Just paste!” denounced Canonby. “Worthless glass—”
“One moment,” interposed Sir Ernest severely. “Tell me, Canonby, why you made yourself party to this arrangement which you now denounce?”
“I was paid for it,” replied the jeweler. “Two thousand pounds was the amount that I received for storing the rajah’s money in my vault.”
“A trifling amount,” remarked Lewsham, “when one considers that you risked the keeping of a quarter million.”
The Shadow saw Canonby blanch.
For a moment, the fellow faltered; then his color returned.
“I was duped,” he stated. “The rajah asked for no receipt. He affirmed that he would rely upon my integrity. I am honest, gentlemen. I can prove that I had those funds in my possession; that I preserved them faithfully. That should be evidence that I was no party to any vile scheme.”
Listeners seemed convinced. Lewsham turned promptly to the Rajah of Delapore.
“You had some purpose in placing these funds with Canonby,” expressed Lewsham. “We await a sufficient explanation, your excellency.”
“I SHALL supply one gladly,” purred the rajah, with a pleased smile. “Had Canonby spoken of this at Rudlow’s, I could have settled the question before our arrival. I am not The Harvester. It is folly for any one to believe so.
“I am actually the Rajah of Delapore. I came from India with gems which I valued at a quarter million, sterling. When I arrived in Paris, I transacted with the jewelry firm of Freres Francine. They purchased my gems. Here are the receipts.”
Calmly, the rajah drew forth folded documents and placed them in the hands of Lewsham.
“The purchasers specified, however,” resumed his excellency, “that I should not reveal the fact that I had sold my jewels on the Continent. They were perturbed by thoughts of criminal attempts in Paris. They provided me with imitation gems, which I brought to London.
“I kept the false stones hidden, guarding them as carefully as if they had been genuine. I went to Dawson Canonby and arranged the sale of the false gems. He is right when he states that I trusted his integrity. He was recommended to me by Freres Francine.”
“A firm with which I deal!” exclaimed Canonby. “You should have told me of the arrangement, your excellency.”
“I would have done so,” assured the rajah, “had it proven necessary. However, since you accepted my proposition without question, I decided not to state the circumstances. I knew that I would not place you in jeopardy. Jewel thieves have avoided England recently; moreover, they would gain nothing if they sought to wrest these false stones from your possession.
“The payment of two thousand pounds to you, Canonby, was shared equally by Freres Francine and myself. Peruse the contract, Chief Lewsham. You will learn all the particulars, attested by Paris notaries.”
Sir Ernest was on his feet. He was not convinced by the rajah’s smooth tone.
“You say that you are not The Harvester!” stormed Sir Ernest. “What evidence do we have to that fact?”
“What more do you require?” laughed the rajah. “I understand that you encountered The Harvester here. That took place while I was still in London.”
“He abducted Justin Craybaw!” accused Sir Ernest, indicating the managing director. “And after the abduction, he took Craybaw’s place. The Harvester could also have kidnapped the Rajah of Delapore.”
“At what hour?” inquired the rajah.
“At any time after six o’clock,” decided Sir Ernest. “By such a process, he could have assumed a new identity when—”
“Not in my case,” interrupted the rajah. “It was considerably before six that I arrived at the office of Rudlow, Limited. I have been there since, until I was brought here. I have not left the sight of the Scotland Yard men who had me in their keeping.”
Tunning and Wilton nodded their agreement. Sir Ernest subsided. The Shadow, watching the rajah, awaited new arguments. They came.
“WHY should I have placed a quarter million with Canonby?” he queried. “It would not have been necessary for a criminal to do so. Nor would the act have given me status. On the contrary — Canonby himself bears witness — my action has caused me embarrassment.
“If The Harvester, that rogue, had possessed a quarter million, he would not have placed it in the keeping of a jeweler with orders to keep the matter secret. Instead, he would have used the money to establish himself.
“The Harvester may be wealthy. If so, he is keeping it a secret. He may have ability at disguise; but he would not impersonate myself. Nor could I have impersonated Justin Craybaw. Look at my skin. It is dark — not dyed. How could I have passed myself for an Englishman?
“You seek The Harvester, the man who sent Captain Darryat to me. I believe that I can name him; for I have been wary of recent circumstances. Last night, in fact, an attempted robbery took place at my abode. That made me think more deeply; for I believed that The Harvester might be in back of it.