GONE AGAIN!
"The murder mystery is bad enough," said Hughes, "but this disappearance
of Miss Clyde is also alarming. There is deep deviltry going on, and
since Winston Bannard is in custody it can't be assumed that he had any
hand in the matter."
"Unless Iris is doing something for Win," suggested Miss Darrel.
"They may be working in collusion----" began Hughes, but Mr. Chapin
interrupted. "Don't use such an expression! Working in collusion implies
wrong-doing. If those two, or either of them, should be hunting the
hidden jewels, they have a perfect right to do so. The jewels belong to
them--if they can find them."
"Iris Clyde isn't on any jewel hunt," declared Hughes, when, at that
very moment, in at the door came Iris herself.
Her hair was decidedly tumbled, and her pretty lingerie waist was
rumpled, but otherwise she looked trim and tidy.
But angry! Her eyes blazed as she cried, "Oh, I am so glad you men are
here! I've had such an experience! Mr. Hughes, you must look up the
people who kidnapped me--kidnapped me, in broad daylight! At my own side
door! It seems to me as incredible as it must seem to you!"
"There, there," said Lucille, trying to calm the excited girl, "have you
had your dinner?"
"No, and I don't want any. Listen, everybody, while I tell you about
it."
They listened, breathlessly and absorbedly, while Iris told every detail
of her adventure.
"And then," she wound up, "after Flossie had searched me as thoroughly
as a police matron might have done, she allowed me to put on my things
again, and we came back just as we went. I mean, I was put into the car
with her, it was a little coupe affair, you know, and the same man drove
it. We had the shades up part of the time, but as we made a turn she
pulled them down, and as we neared this house, she put the shawl over my
head again. It was a nice, white, woolly shawl, and smelt faintly of
violet. Well, when we got to the bend of the--road below here, they
asked me to get out and walk the rest of the way. I did so, gladly
enough! I was so relieved to see the house again, that I just _ran_ to
it. They scooted, of course, and that's all. Now, Mr. Hughes, catch
'em!"
"Not so easy, Miss Clyde. The thing was carefully planned, and carried
out with equal care. Did they get the pin?"
"They did not! Now, Mr. Hughes--Mr. Chapin, that pin must have some
value. What can it be? To say it's a lucky pin is silly, I think."
"But what else could be its value?" said Chapin, wonderingly. "Let me
see it."
"I won't let anybody see it, unless we draw the blinds and lock the
doors," said Iris, decidedly. "I tell you there is some value to this
pin. Could it be made of radium, or something like that?"
"Let's see it," demanded Hughes.
"All right, I will," and Iris locked the doors herself, and drew down
the window shades. Then, turning on an electric light, she turned up the
hem of her white serge skirt, and began feeling for the pin. And she
found it, though the point had come through the material. But the head
held it in, and Iris easily extricated it.
"There!" she said, holding it up, "that is the 'valuable pin' Aunt
Ursula bequeathed to me. What do you make of it?"
Hughes took it first, and looked at it curiously. "Just a common,
ordinary pin," he said, "no radium about that."
"Did you ever see any radium?" asked Iris.
"No; but I've seen common pins all my life, and that's one."
"Of course it is;" and Lucille Darrel's positive statement rather
settled the matter.
Mr. Chapin looked at it, but could see nothing unusual about it. It was
not bright, like a new pin, yet it was not yellowed with age. It was
merely a _pin_, and nothing more could be made of it.
"It's a blind," said Hughes, with conviction. "Those people, whoever
they may be, pretend they're after this pin, but really they think you
have a real diamond pin left you by your aunt, and they're after that."
"That might be," agreed Chapin. "Did the search indicate anything of the
sort, Iris?"
"I can't say. If so, at least, that girl made a big bluff of hunting an
ordinary pin. I tried to fool her. I had put a pin of hers in the frill
of my blouse, and I kept looking toward it, but furtively, as if eluding
her attention. She caught on, and she examined that frill in every
plait! She found the pin I had put there, of course, and she took
special care of it, though pretending it was of no particular
importance. I put one, as if hidden, in my petticoat ruffle, too, and
she fairly pounced on that, but she gave me a glance to see if I noticed
her satisfaction! Oh, we played our parts, and it was diamond cut
diamond, I can tell you. I couldn't help liking her; she's really a nice
girl, and she must have been made, or hired, to do what she did. She
made me take down my hair, and she brushed it herself, in hope of
finding a pin in it! And I did think of hiding it there at first, but I
thought it safer where I put it. You see, it couldn't lose out, and
there was little likelihood of her thinking to feel in the hem of my
skirt."
"Very well done; you're a heroine, Miss Clyde, indeed you are! But, I
fear the end is not yet. When they find they haven't the right pin----"
"How can they possibly know?" exclaimed Miss Darrel. "How can they tell
that they haven't?"
"They must be able to tell, because they were not satisfied with the
pins Mr. Pollock took from here."
"Pollock!" cried Iris. "It wasn't Pollock who ran that car to-day."
"No, but it's his affair. He sent the little car for you----"
"How did he know I'd be out there and with the pin in my possession?"
"He's been on the watch, all day, likely. Oh, you don't know the
cleverness of a really clever villain. But give me an idea which way you
went."
"I have no idea. You see, all the time the shades were up the shawl was
over my head, and when she took the shawl off I couldn't see out at
all."
"You've no notion what road you traveled?"
"Not a bit, after we left this place. I think they made unnecessary
turns, for the car turned around often."
"You see what clever rascals we have to deal with?" grumbled Hughes.
"And you recognized no landmarks?"
"Not one."
"What was the house like?"
"Fairly nice; old-fashioned, but not antique at all. Decent furnishings,
but no taste, and nothing of real value. Commonplace, all through."
"The hardest kind of a house to trace!"
"Yes, there was nothing distinctive at all."
"No people in it?"
"Not that I know of. I heard no sound. Flossie took me into a little
sitting room to undress, not a bedroom. Everything was clean, but
ordinary. Of course, I'd know the room if I saw it again, but I've no
glimmering of an idea where it was."
"Strangest case I ever heard of!" mused Mr. Chapin. "I think the pin has
some especial value. Maybe it is of gold, inside."
"Nonsense!" said Lucille, scornfully, "that amount of gold wouldn't be
worth anything! I'm inclined to the radium theory, though I don't know
a thing about the stuff."
"Well, I'm going to hide this pin, right now," said Iris, "and I want
you all to see where I put it. I'm afraid to put it in the bank or in
Mr. Chapin's safe, for those people would get it somehow. But here are
only Mr. Chapin and Mr. Hughes and Miss Darrel and myself. We are all
trustworthy, and I'll hide it. Then, I shall devote my life to the
solving of the mystery of the pin and Aunt Ursula's death--for, I think
they are very closely connected."
"I believe you!" cried Hughes, "and I agree that the best place to hide
the thing is in this house. Where, now?"
"In Auntie's room," said Iris, solemnly, and she led the way to Ursula
Pell's sitting room. "This place is barred and we can lock the door to
the other room, and keep it locked. See, I shall put it in this big easy
chair, that Auntie loved to sit in. I'll tuck it well down in between
the back and the seat upholstery, and no one can find it. Then, if we
ever discover wherein its value lies, we know where the pin is, and can
get it."
"I suppose that's all right," said Mr. Chapin, a little dubiously, "but
in a safe----"
"No, Miss Clyde's idea is best," asserted Hughes. "How cleverly she hid
the thing in her skirt hem, didn't she? Let her alone for the right
dope about this. As she says, we four know where it is, and that's all
that's necessary. I believe the people who want this pin will stick at
nothing, and if it's in any ordinary safe they'll get it."
"But what _could_ they want of it?" repeated Lucille, plaintively. "Just
as a surmise, what _could_ they want of it?"
"I'll tell you!" cried Iris, with a flash of inspiration. "It's a clue
or a key to where the jewels are hidden! Oh, it must be! That's why they
want it!"
"Clue? How?" said Lucille, in bewilderment.
"I don't know, but, say, the pin is the length of--of----"
"I don't know what you're getting at," said Chapin, "but all pins are
the same length."
"What!" cried Hughes, "indeed they're not!"
"Oh, well, I mean there are only a few lengths. The pins that girl took
from Iris to-day are just the same as this one, aren't they?"
"About," said Iris; "of course, pins differ, but the ones we use are
generally of nearly the same length. But I'm sure the length or weight
of this pin----"
"Weight!" exclaimed Hughes; "suppose a certain weight, goldsmith's
scales, you know--would open a delicately adjusted lode on a safe----"
"You're romancing, man," and Mr. Chapin smiled, "but it does seem that
the pin must have some significance. It would be just like Ursula Pell
to call it a valuable pin, when it really was a valuable pin, in some
such sense as a key to a hiding-place."
"But how?" repeated Lucille; "I don't see how its weight or length could
be a key----"
"Nor I," agreed Hughes, "but I believe it is, all the same! I've a lot
of confidence in Miss Clyde's intuition, or insight, or whatever you
choose to call it. And I believe she's on the right track. I confess I
can't see how, but I do think there may be some connection between this
pin and the hidden jewels----"
"But what good does it do, if we can't find it?" objected Lucille.
"We will find it," declaimed Iris, her eyes shining with strong purpose,
"we must find it. And if we do, we'll be indebted to these people for
putting us on the right track."
"They'll probably turn up again, pin-hunting," mused Mr. Chapin.
"Let 'em!" said Iris, scornfully, "I'm not afraid of them. They're
determined, Lord knows! But they're not dangerous."
"They gagged you----"
"But not in a ruffianly manner! No, I'm not afraid. If Miss Darrel will
let me stay here a while longer, I believe I can ferret out----"
"Stay as long as you like, dear child," and Lucille smiled kindly on
her, "and I'll help you. I'm fond of puzzles, myself, and maybe I can
help more than you'd think!"
"Now, I want to go and see Win, and tell him all about it," Iris
announced; "mayn't I?"
"I think I can arrange that----" began Hughes; but Lucille said, "Not
now, Iris, you must have some food first. Why, you've had no dinner at
all, and it's after four o'clock!"
"I'm not hungry," Iris insisted, but Miss Darrel carried her off to the
dining room.
"Mighty queer mix-up," Hughes said to the lawyer.
"It is so, but I can't think there's any importance to that pin. These
theories don't hold water."
"I dunno's they do, but they've got to be looked into. That pin's safe
for the present, I think, safer'n it'd be in a bank. That is, unless
somebody was lookin' in the window. Miss Clyde was mighty careful to
draw the shades in the other room, but she forgot it in here--and so did
I."
"Oh, there's nobody to look in. The house is so far back from the road,
and none of the servants are of the prying sort."
"That's all very well, but I believe in taking every precaution. Say,
Mr. Chapin, has it ever struck you that Win Bannard might be in cahoots
with these pin people?"
"Winston? Good heavens, no! What do you mean?"
"Well, nothing in particular, but you know I arrested Bannard because I
thought he killed his aunt--and I've had no reason to change my mind."
"How----"
"Don't say 'how did he get out?' Just remember that the murderer _did_
get out, and we must find him first, and then he'll tell us how."
"Oh, not Win Bannard!"
"Then, who? Who else had motive, opportunity, and--well, you know his
finances are in a bad way?"
"No, I didn't know it."
"Well, they are. And he told some of his pals in New York on Saturday
night that he'd touch his aunt for five thousand on Sunday! How's that?"
"Did he really?"
"He really did. And we've more counts against him, too. Oh, Winston
Bannard has a lot to explain! But I don't want to talk here. These are
state secrets."
"But tell me, how did you find out so much about Bannard?"
"By inquiries I got afoot, and they panned out pretty good. Why, I've
got a witness to prove that he stopped at the Red Fox Inn that Sunday,
just as he said he did, but it was on his way _up_ here, not on his way
_back_, as he declares!"
"Hughes, that's bad!"
"Bad? You bet it is! I'm sorry for Bannard, but I've got to track him
down. I'll be going now; I've a heap to see to. Tell the ladies good-bye
for me."
The detective went off and Lawyer Chapin, with the privilege of a family
friend, went to the dining room, where Iris was trying to eat, all the
while excitedly telling Lucille further details of the kidnapping
affair.
"I'm terribly interested," Miss Darrel was saying, "and I want you to
stay here, Iris, till it's all cleared up. And I want to get a big
detective up from the city. I don't think very much of Hughes, do you,
Mr. Chapin?"
"Not much, no. But big detectives are very expensive."
"If one can find Iris' inheritance, she won't mind the cost."
"And if he doesn't succeed?"
"Then I'll pay it!" Lucille spoke positively and with a determined shake
of her head. "I've money of my own, and I'll pay if he doesn't find the
jewels, and if he does Iris can reward me, eh, girlie?"
"Of course I will! Oh, Lucille, do you mean it? I'm so glad. You know
Win isn't guilty, I know he isn't, and a fine detective could find out
who is, and how he did the murder, and then he can find the jewels, and
everything will be cleared up!"
"Don't go too fast," cautioned Chapin, "even a great detective would
find this a hard case, I'm sure."
"But if he fails, Miss Darrel will pay his fee, and if he succeeds, I
will, and gladly! And I'll give you a big present too," she added
glancing brightly at Lucille.
"Now, I'm going to see Win," Iris went on, pushing back from the table,
"but first, let's talk over this detective matter." She led the way back
to the sitting room, which had come to be the general rendezvous for
discussions.
She looked around the room, thoughtfully. "If we have a detective," she
said; "he'll ask first of all if anything has been touched. The place
hasn't been much disturbed, has it?"
"Very little," agreed Lucille. "And we can be careful that nothing else
is touched."
"And I'm going to pick up and put away anything that can be considered a
clue." Iris took up the old pocket-book, as she spoke. "We've all looked
on this as no account, because the contents are missing; perhaps the
detective will be interested in the empty pocket-book."
"Then there's the New York paper," suggested Lucille.
Iris winced. "They think that implicates Win," she said, slowly, "but I
don't! So I'm going to take that, too. The cigarette stub Mr. Hughes
took away with him. But everybody smokes that brand. Now, what else?"
"The check-book," said Chapin, gravely. "Be careful, Iris. Everything
does seem to point to Win, you know."
"It seems to, yes, but does it? You know yourself, Mr. Chapin, anybody
might have a New York Sunday paper--oh, well, I'm going ahead, because I
know Win is innocent, and these seeming clues may help to find the real
villain."
"Good stuff, you are, Iris!" declared the lawyer, looking at her
admiringly. "Go in and win!"
"Win for Win!" and Iris smiled brightly.
"Are you in love with him?" cried Lucille, who had not thought of such a
thing.
"Yes," said Iris, simply. "Now, Mr. Chapin, are you going to help me?"
"Certainly I am, if I can. How?"
"Well, first of all, I've changed my mind about that pin. I don't think
I'll leave it where it is. I did think it wise, but it seems to me that
anyone searching thoroughly, desperately, would look in the chair
cushions, and so, I think I'll ask you to put it in your safe,
but--don't tell Mr. Hughes we've changed its hiding-place."
"Very well, Iris; the pin is certainly yours, and if you give it to me
for safe-keeping, I'll do my best to protect it."
"And don't tell Mr. Hughes, for he's liable to want to see what it's
made of. I'll give it to you now."
"Draw the shades first, don't fail to use every precaution. That's
right; I'll switch on a light. Why do you have this table light on this
long cord?"
"It was put in lately, and it was less trouble to do it that way. Now
I'll get the pin. It does seem ridiculous to make such a fuss over a
pin!"
"Here's a little box," said Mr. Chapin, taking an empty one from the
desk, "we can put it in this."
"Why, where is it?" said Iris, looking blank. "I stuck it right in this
corner."
But the pin was gone!
Search as they would, in the soft cushions, there was no pin there. Nor
had it sunk through the upholstery material. The closely woven brocade
would not permit of that. They faced the astounding fact--the pin was
gone!