What else?"
"They are all right, Mr. Venner."
"I thought you would say so."
"Yes, indeed. They are all right--for what they are!"
"For what they are?"
"Precisely."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You know what I mean."
"I do?" snarled Venner, inquiringly, with his frowning eyes shrinking
from Nick's steadfast gaze.
"Certainly you do," declared Nick. "These diamonds are imitations, not
natural stones. They are the most perfect and marvelous artificial
diamonds ever made.
"Artificial!" cried Venner, now drawing back. "You are mad, sir! Why,
man, you are away off the track!"
"Oh, no, I'm not."
"You are!"
"Not off the track at all, but very squarely on it," Nick now retorted,
speaking in his own sternly resonant tones. "Hark you, Venner, I am the
one to ask the meaning of this, not you!"
Venner's hand went stealing toward his hip pocket.
"So you are showing your true colors, are you?" he cried, with
threatening significance. "By Heaven, you are no Hindoo!"
"That's right, Venner, I am not," said Nick, quickly throwing off the
loose robe that hid his own apparel, fearing it might impede his
movements. "I am no Hindoo, but am--"
"Nick Carter!"
"Exactly!"
"So this is your game, is it?" Venner fiercely began.
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