Detective Ferguson's statement that he had
removed the envelope from the safe, and therefore had never looked in
the compartment where Helen had put it to verify its disappearance.

Ferguson had removed it, Kent concluded as he examined the envelope with
more care; it was the identical one, unaddressed, with the same red
seal holding down the flap. The same red seal, but with a difference--a
corner was missing.

Kent stared at the seal for a moment in doubt, then his fingers
sought his vest pocket and fumbled about for a minute. Taking out
Mrs. Brewster's check, he laid it on the desk alongside the envelope,
unfolded it, and picked out a piece of red sealing wax which had slid
inside the check. Kent placed the red wax on the broken section of the
seal--it fitted exactly, forming a perfect letter "B."

Kent sat in dumbfounded silence, regarding the red seal and the
envelope. The piece of wax broken off from the seal had caught on his
coat sleeve when he had been in the Venetian casket in the library at
the McIntyre house. It was proof positive that not only he had been in
the casket, but the sealed envelope also. Helen McIntyre had left the
envelope in his care. Mrs. Brewster and Colonel McIntyre had both been
present when the envelope was stolen from him. Which of them had taken
it? Which one had afterwards secreted it in the Venetian casket? And
which had brought it back to the safe in his office?

Colonel McIntyre had been in his office within the hour--the question
was answered, and Kent's eyes brightened, then clouded--Barbara had been
there as well, and Grimes had stated that before he received a knock-out
blow in the McIntyre library he heard the swish of skirts!

Kent laid his hand on the envelope. It was time that he found out what
it contained; but his finger, inserted under the flap, paused as his
eyes fell on the check bearing Mrs. Brewster's signature. It was the
check he had picked up from the floor of the McIntyre limousine that
morning and inadvertently carried away with him.

From her signature his glance wandered to Sylvester's memorandum pad;
it was uncanny the way his eye picked out the letter "B" as he stared at
Clymer's note and its signature. Slowly his hand dropped away from the
envelope and he left it lying forgotten on the desk as he picked up
piece after piece of blotting paper, glancing intently at each and
finally, pulling open a drawer of his desk, he hunted in feverish haste
for a han