"I thought Cynthia could then wear it again without her husband knowing
it had ever been out of her possession. But the murder changed all my
plans. As soon as I could, I went to the shop to look for the cross.
I thought perhaps it might have been put in one of the showcases, or
laid on the shelf, perhaps forgotten. Really I was so distressed, I
didn't know what to think. I did not want to tell any one what I was
looking for, so I went about quietly. But I could not find it. Then I
was obliged to ask Darcy about it, secretly, of course, and without
hinting as to the ownership.

"But he had never seen it. He said Mrs. Darcy had not given it to him,
nor asked him to repair it. Nor was it in the shop, as far as he knew,
and he went over all the stock to furnish a list to the police, so they
could tell whether or not there had been a robbery."

"And there was none?"

"None, unless you call the taking of the diamond cross a theft. For
that alone is missing. And I'd give half my fortune to get it back.
Cynthia's husband may ask about it at any moment, and what excuse can
she give?"

"It is rather a ticklish matter," agreed the detective. "Well, I'll
see what I can do. First I thought you wanted me to work on the murder
case. But as I am already engaged on that, to try to clear Darcy, I
can as well include the diamond cross mystery also. I wonder if they
have any connection."

"I don't see how they can have. Mrs. Darcy may merely have put the
cross away secretly, and it may take a careful search of the place to
find it."

"Maybe so. I'll have to nose around a bit."

There came a knock on the office door.

"Come!" called out the colonel.

His clerk handed him a telegram. Tearing it open the detective read a
message from one of his agents in a distant western city: It said:


"Spotty Morgan arrested here to-day. Big diamond cross found on him.
Do you want him?"


"Do I want him?" fairly yelled the colonel. "I should say I did!
Here, get me Blake on the long distance. This is no time for a wire.
I've got to telephone!" And he hurried to a private booth in a back
office, leaving Grafton to himself.

After he had telephoned. Colonel Ashley sat in silence in the booth,
musing.

"Now I wonder," he said to himself, "if Grafton is telling me the
truth. Almost any one would believe his story--it sounds straight
enough--and yet I can't take any chances. I guess I mustn't lose sight
of you, Aaron Grafton.

"And perhaps Larch isn't so bad a chap as you'd have me believe. Trust
a disgruntled lover for saying the worst about the other chap. Yes, I
can't afford to take any chances. You may know a bit more about this
murder than you're telling me, even considering the latest from my
friend Spotty. Yes, you may be playing a double game, Mr. Aaron
Grafton."




CHAPTER IX

INDICTED

"Well, Spotty, I've got to hand it to you! Certainly you did put one
over on me!"

"Not intentional, Colonel. So help me--not intentional!"

"Well, maybe not, but I've got to hand it to you. If I didn't know
that slip of mine in front of the truck was pure accident, I'd say you
staged it just to make a good get-away."

"I couldn't do that, Colonel."

"I don't know, Spotty. You're a clever kid."

"But I couldn't do that. I was on the level in saving you. You've got
to give me credit for that," pleaded the gunman.

"I know you were, Spotty. And that's why I gave you a chance to get
away. But I never thought it was for a job like this--murder."

"And it wasn't, Colonel--it wasn't! So help me, I never laid eyes on
the old lady--dead or alive! Murder? I should say not!"

"Then how did you get that diamond cross? Answer me!"

Colonel Ashley, with a dramatic gesture, pointed to the glittering
ornament that lay on the table between him and the New York crook. The
stones glittered in the electric lights of police headquarters, for it


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