ings in the wrist
loops."

"But why should any one chain Mr. Greene to his bed with a trick chain?"
questioned Mrs. Hale, whose mind had been working swiftly.

"He chained himself," explained Jones, "for excellent reasons. As there
is no regular trade in these things, I figured that he probably bought
it from some juggler whose performance had given him the idea. So,"
continued Jones, producing a specimen of his advertisements in the
theatrical publications, "I set out to find what professional had sold
a 'prop', to an amateur. I found the sale had been made at Marsfield,
Ohio, late in November of last year, by a 'Slippery Sam,' termed 'The
Elusive Edwardes.' On November twenty-eighth of last year Mr. Harvey M.
Greene, of Richmond, Virginia, was registered at the principal, in fact
the only decent hotel, at Barsfield. I wrote to him and here he is."

"Yes; but where is my necklace?" cried Mrs. Hale.

"On my word of honor, madam, I know nothing of your necklace," asserted
Greene, with a painful contraction of his features. "If this gentleman
can throw any more light--"

"I think I can," said Average Jones. "Do you remember anything of that
night's events after you broke off the bedpost and left your room--the
meeting with a guest who questioned you in the hall, for example?"

"Nothing. Not a thing until I awoke and found myself on the
fire-escape."

"Awoke?" cried Kirby. "Were you asleep all the time?"

"Certainly. I'm a confirmed sleep-walker worst type. That's why I go
under an alias. That's why I got the trick handcuff chain and chained
myself up with it, until I found it drove me fighting', crazy in my
sleep when I couldn't break away. That's why I slept in my dressing-gown
that night at the Denton. There was a red light in the hall outside
and any light, particularly a colored one, is likely to set me going.
I probably dreamed I was escaping from a locomotive--that's a common
delusion of mine--and sought refuge in the first door that was open."

"Wait a minute," said Average Jones. "You--er--say that you
are--er--peculiarly susceptible to--er--colored light."

"Yes."

"Mrs. Hale, was the table on which the necklace lay in line with any
light outside?"

"I think probably with the direct ray of an electric globe shining
through the farther window."

"Then, Mr. Greene," said, Average Jones, "the glint of the fire-blue
stones undoubtedly caught your eye. You seized on the necklace and
carried it out on