WHITEWASH
a crumpled paper, which he presently spread out upon his knee, and read:
"Both of them nabbed—jig's up. Have skipped. Lay low!"
This communication had been pressed into his hand by a sharp-faced, ragged street arab, who had met him, quite by accident, as he came out of "Brodie's." Valdeck smoothed the paper absently, and continued in deep meditation. The bubble had burst. It was his first real setback, and he took it hard. But he was not the man to lie down under misfortune. His ready brain had comprehended the full extent of the catastrophe. At once he recognized the impossibility of snatching his chestnuts from the fire, and turned to his plans for the future. Thank goodness, only half the New Orleans swag was in the despatch-box; the rest was already safely conveyed to London, where he could look it up on his arrival, and the Amsterdam firm stood ready to relieve him of his precious stones at a fairly decent figure. The question was now how, when, and where to strike for the other side. He turned over the possibilities. If his schemes had not so
