band," as Bobby afterwards named them, laughed with him; in fact, in their relief, laughing till the tears came. The black-eyed man, meanwhile, left the room, still, evidently, suspicious of them.
"Monsieur Brissot," explained Mr. Matthews, "is a Belgian diamond cutter who has just come to this country. He seems to be suspicious of everybody, and, I fear, does not always use judgment in his handling of such matters. I am grateful, however, for the interest he takes in my business, and trust you young people will overlook his excess of zeal."
Mr. Matthews showed them to the door, and as by this time the reporters were well away intent on other affairs, they went out of the building in the regular way—a more seemly way than scuttling down fire escapes and breaking into jewelry shops, so Betty declared.
"Well, good gracious!" observed Bobby, when they were once outside. "If this hasn't been an exciting morning! First we get nearly killed, then we're rescued, and next we're almost arrested."
They boarded a street car and went to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, where they spent an interesting afternoon touring the immense plant, the best equipped of its kind in the world.
The recital of their adventures at the dinner