A NEW MYSTERY.
After several dances in the big room cleared for that purpose, the
guests were invited to an adjoining room, where supper was served by the
hostess and her mother. Tanner, Metcalfe, and other members of the stock
company were hovering about Miss Lydecker, drinking impromptu toasts,
laughing, and exchanging pleasantries.
She finally broke away from them and came over to where Klein was
chatting with Miss Reed.
“I was just telling Miss Reed,” Klein said, “how careless the majority
of you girls are with your jewels.”
“You don’t suppose for one minute, Mr. Klein, that we would keep them
locked up when so many gallant men are about!” Miss Lydecker exclaimed.
She fumbled at a big brooch pinned on her bodice. It was a wonderful
piece of workmanship, fashioned of diamonds and other precious stones,
and cunningly wrought in the shape of a lotus flower.
“Daddy gave me this last week, and told me never to wear it except on
state occasions,” Miss Lydecker announced. “It has been in our family
several generations, and——”
Metcalfe interrupted at this moment. “Playing favorites so early in the
evening, Miss Lydecker?” he asked.
“I’ve just been given a warning,” she said.
“A Black-hand letter?” asked Tanner, who had strolled up.
“Hardly as bad as that. But as usual it fell upon deaf ears.”
Several other men came up at this moment, and the conversation was
abruptly shifted. Klein watched as Miss Lydecker walked away, surrounded
by a group of admirers.
Perhaps five minutes elapsed. None of the guests had left the room—of
this Klein was positive, since he was sitting nearest the door—and the
incessant chatter rose and fell like the murmur of surf on a distant
shore.
The men were allowed to enjoy cigars, and the room was soon filled with
drifting smoke. Tanner, evidently at some one’s request, stepped to the
nearest window and opened it.
“There!” he exclaimed. “That’s better.” He drew in a deep breath. “Isn’t
the sea air refreshing?”
He sat down on the arm of Klein’s chair. “Do you know it is three
o’clock?”
“I’d forgotten about the time,” Klein answered. “I suppose we ought to
be home.”
“Dress rehearsal to-morrow night, remember,” Tanner cautioned. “Bond
raked me over the coals to-day. I’ve got sixty sides for next week, and
I’ve hardly glanced at the script. It is up to me to pound all day
to-morrow.”
Miss Lydecker came over and joined them. “The party is breaking up. I’ll
have the cars sent around,” she said.
“That’s thoughtful of you, Miss Lydecker,” replied Tanner. “What a
hostess you are!”
“You must not forget next Saturday night,” she cautioned both of the
men. “We’re going to have a real party. It’s my birthday. Daddy has
promised me an orchestra from New York.”
“You could not keep us away,” murmured Tanner.
Klein, who had been watching her closely, suddenly spoke. “I notice,
after all, Miss Lydecker, that you have taken heed of my warning.”
“What warning?” she asked, frowning.
“About the brooch. You have put it away.”
The girl’s hand went quickly to her collar, and instantly she paled.
“The—the brooch,” she gasped; “it’s—gone.”
“You didn’t take it off yourself?” cried Klein.
“No,” she faltered; “I—I—it’s lost.”
“Good Lord!” broke from Tanner’s lips.
“You haven’t been out of this room since you spoke with me last, have
you?” inquired Klein.
She shook her head.
“Then it must be in here—some place!”
Tanner gripped Klein’s arms. “Do you think some one might——”
“We’ll have to find that out,” said Klein. “I’ve been sitting here for
the past half hour. Not one of the guests passed out; I’m positive of
that.”
Tanner’s eyes narrowed as he caught Klein’s meaning. “I understand.
We’ll keep them all here until——”
A few minutes later the whole room was made aware of the discovery. The
girls huddled together in a frightened group, while the men gathered
around Tanner and Klein.
“I saw the brooch barely fifteen minutes ago,” Klein said, addressing
them. “And Miss Lydecker has not been out of this room. The brooch must
be in here.”
Under his direction the room was gone over, inch by inch. Nothing was
found. After that, at Tanner’s suggestion, each of the men submitted
himself to a search. Tanner allowed Klein to search him, and then the
process was reversed. Following this, Klein assured himself that none of
the other men present had the jewel upon him.
Klein walked over to Miss Lydecker and spoke to her. “Don’t give up so
readily, Miss Lydecker. Your brooch cannot be far away. Every man here,
I am sure, will make a determined effort to——”
“What—what’ll daddy say?” she moaned. “He told me not to wear it.”
“Cheer up!” exclaimed Klein. “I’ll wager you’ll be wearing it before
next Saturday night.”
Miss Lydecker finally calmed herself, and offered a limp hand to the
departing guests. The machines drew up at the door, and the girls and
their escorts silently took their seats.
“Don’t worry too much,” Klein said, smiling into her white face; “things
may brighten to-morrow. Good-by.”