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 THE TREASURE

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stretched out. A black pool was at the foot of one of the chairs. ' What’s that pool ? ’ thought Hippolyte. ' Of course, blood. . . . Comrade Bender is dead.’ Hippolyte threw the towel away, carefully put the razor on the floor, walked out of the room, and quietly closed the door behind him. The great schemer had died on the threshold of happiness. Out in the street Hippolyte frowned and muttered : ‘ Three per cent ! The diamonds are mine now ! ’ He walked towards Kalanchev Square and stopped outside the third window of the Railway Workers’ Club. The windows of the new building were glistening in the grey morning light, and he had no difficulty in climbing nimbly on to the window-sill. He opened the window and jumped noiselessly into the corridor. Knowing his way, he went into the chess-room, and soon found the chair. He was in no hurry, now that the great schemer was dead. Hippolyte sat down on the floor, held the chair between his legs, and began to draw the nails out of the upholstery. He did not miss one of them and at the sixty-second nail his work was done. The English chintz and the canvas under it were loose. All he had to do was to lift them up to find the large cases and small cases and the various boxes which were all filled with precious stones. ‘ 1 shall get into a car immediately,’ he thought, for he had learnt wisdom from Bender ; ‘ and I shall go straight to the railway station, and from there I shall make for the Polish frontier. It will cost me a diamond or two, but once there- ’ And longing to be in Poland as quickly as possible, he dragged the chintz and the canvas off the chair. His eyes saw springs, beautiful English springs, and stuffing, wonderful pre­ War quality stuffing such as you do not see nowadays. But there was nothing else in the chair.