Blue eyes and diamonds

When Betty Danford gambled and lost, she tried to dodge the consequences--but men cannot always be fooled or cajoled, and the best-laid plans oft go blooey.

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Argosy All-Story Weekly March 9 1929.]

Detective Harry Milholland finished his demitasse and thoughtfully lighted a cigarette. Over the match flame he looked into the serious and troubled blue eyes of the girl who sat opposite him in the private dining room.

"Betty, you're the same old madcap! As spoiled as you are pretty, and as selfish as you are sweet! And even though you turned me down and married Chester Danford, it's terribly hard for me to refuse you anything; but I'm going to refuse you this! It's a wild scheme and I won't--"

"Oh, yes, you will, Harry!" Betty Danford interrupted, her blue eyes pleading as she wagged a reproving finger at the man. "You haven't the heart to leave me in this awful predicament when you can help me so easily. Understand, I don't want you to steal the necklace; I just want you to hire some one to do it. Surely you know lots of clever thieves who--"

"Who are behind the bars where they belong," Milholland finished, smiling grimly. "Say, Bet, why don't you go right to your husband and tell him the whole thing? Chester is good-hearted, and as square as they make 'em."

"No!" Betty compressed her lips and shook her head emphatically. "Tell Chester that I associated with those people? That I gambled and lost more than I could afford? Confess to him that I pawned the diamond necklace he gave me for a wedding present? And that I had a paste necklace made to deceive him? I can't do it, Harry! Why, it took me a week to muster up the nerve to tell you! And now you must help me! My scheme--"

"How much have you lost?" Detective Milholland demanded abruptly.

"I won't tell you!" Betty pouted prettily. "I'm ashamed of it. Besides, I wouldn't take your money even if you had any, and since everyone admits that you're an honest policeman, I know you must be dreadfully poor."

"I'm satisfied, Betty." Milholland smiled at the girl's naïve frankness. "Say, why couldn't you steal the necklace yourself?"

"Because I'm too much of a bungler. I've discovered that I can't even tell my husband a little fib without half choking. And the day I pawned the necklace and told Chester that I was having it cleaned and repaired was--was a regular nightmare. I'll never get over it. And I can't ever wear the paste string again. It chokes me. I'm in constant terror of my husband discovering the truth. Please don't keep me in torment any longer, Harry! Get some one you can trust and have him steal the paste string. I won't have to say a word. My darling hubby will think it was the genuine necklace that was stolen--and he'll want to get me another right away. In the meantime I'll have the pawnbroker break up the necklace, sell the stones, and what's due me will clear up everything. Please, Harry!"

"Don't coax, Betty! This thing isn't half as easy as you think."

"Don't you know a man you can trust?"

"Sure, but--"

"And that you can get to-night?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then it's settled!" Betty Danford opened her hand bag and got out a key. "This is the key to the south door. Your man can get in with this key and then leave it in my room. When he's ready to leave, he can open the window in my room that lets on the porch roof, and go out the door the way he came. Chester will think that I forgot to lock the window and that the thief got in that way. There isn't much in the room worth stealing except the necklace. That's in a secret compartment in the bottom of the upper right-hand drawer of my dressing table. Your man had better take out all the drawers and dump the contents on the bed. Make it look like a real robbery. See, Harry? Well, when he does that, he'll discover the catch that operates the secret compartment. You can trust your man not to go into the dining room, can't you? Our silverware--"

"You can't trust any thief too far," Milholland said grimly. "Where'll you be? And your husband?"

"I'll get him to take me to dinner some place. There'll be no one in the house. Better--er--what do you say?--pull the job early. Say, eight o'clock. Then if your thief is seen going to the house, or leaving, no one will think anything of it. Eh, Harry?"

"Eight o'clock will do, but--"

"But me no buts! Harry Milholland, how can you be so obstinate?" Impulsively, Betty Danford reached across the table and "spanked" Milholland's big hand.

"Darn you, Betty!" muttered the detective, drawing his hand away as if the touch of the girl's fingers brought back an old heartache. "I don't want to do this thing, but I suppose I'll have to. It isn't fair to your husband, and I wash my hands of the whole affair. If anything goes wrong--"

"It's all my grief! Certainly!"

"That wasn't what I meant, Betty."

"No matter! Cheer up, old gloom! And I must be going." The girl jumped up and stepped around the table to the door. "Remember, I'm depending on you, Harry! 'By!" Smiling, she blew him a kiss and was gone, leaving Detective Milholland staring at the curtains, a troubled look on his face.