ryce's greeting as he entered my parlor on that memorable
morning.

"Satisfied?" I repeated, rising and facing him with what he afterwards
described as a stony glare.

"Pardon me! I suppose you would have been still more satisfied if we had
waited for _you_ to point out the guilty man to _us_. But you must make
some allowances for professional egotism, Miss Butterworth. We really
could not allow you to take the initiatory step in a matter of such
importance."

"Oh!" was my sole response; but he has since told me that there was a
great deal in that _oh_; so much, that even he was startled by it.

"You set to-day for a talk with me," he went on; "probably relying upon
what you intended to assure yourself of yesterday. But our discovery at
the same time as yourself of the rings in Mr. Van Burnam's office, need
not interfere with your giving us your full confidence. The work you
have done has been excellent, and we are disposed to give you
considerable credit for it."

"Indeed!"

I had no choice but to thus indulge in ejaculations. The communication
he had just made was so startling, and his assumption of my complete
understanding of and participation in the discovery he professed to have
made, so puzzling, that I dared not venture beyond these simple
exclamations, lest he should see the state of mind into which he had
thrown me, and shut up like an oyster.

"We have kept counsel over what we have found," the wary old detective
continued, with a smile, which I wish I could imitate, but which
unhappily belongs to him alone. "I hope that you, or your maid, I should
say, have been equally discreet."

My maid!

"I see you are touched; but women find it so hard to keep a secret. But
it does not matter. To-night the whole town will know that the older and
not the younger brother has had these rings in his keeping."

"It will be nuts for the papers," I commented; then making an effort, I
remarked: "You are a most judicious man, Mr. Gryce, and must have other
reasons than the discovery of these rings for your threatened arrest of
a man of such excellent repute as Silas Van Burnam's eldest son. I
should like to hear them, Mr. Gryce. I should like to hear them very
much."

My attempt to seem at ease under these embarrassing conditions must have
given a certain sharpness to my tone; for, instead of replying, he
remarked, with well simulated concern and a fatherly humoring of my
folly peculiarly exasperating to one of my