nd returned with two little packets. In the first were two
bracelets, one studded with emeralds and diamonds, the other set with
rubies. In the second envelope was a gold ring set with one large diamond
surrounded by small rubies.

"I allowed him six hundred dollars on the bracelets," explained
Abrahamson; "they are handsome--exquisite; and three hundred and fifty
on the ring."

Braceway passed the stuff back to him. It was a part of the Withers
jewelry.

"You see, Mr. Braceway," added the Jew, "all this business, this murder
and everything, will cost me money. This jewelry, it is stolen goods.
Chief Greenleaf leaves it here for the present, as a decoy. Perhaps,
somebody might try to reclaim it. That's what he thinks. As for me, I
don't think so. It is a dead loss."

He sighed and rearranged the articles in their envelopes.

"Yes," agreed the detective; "it's hard luck. You've got every reason to
be interested in running down the truth in this mix-up. I wish you could
tell me where you think you saw this man--the time he had neither the
gold tooth nor the brown beard."

"Be patient, my friend--Mr. Braceway. By tomorrow I may remember. I shall
work hard--the association of ideas! It is a great system."

Braceway thanked him and was about to leave the shop. He had already
formed a new plan. He turned back to the pawn broker.

"By the way," he said, "I'm going to Washington tomorrow. If you should
remember, if the association of ideas produces anything, I wonder if
you'd wire me?"

"Certainly. Certainly."

The detective wrote on a slip of paper: S. S. Braceway, Willard Hotel. He
handed it to Abrahamson.

"Wire me that address, collect," he directed.

Abrahamson promised, smiling. He was pleased with the idea of helping to
solve the problem which convulsed Furmville.

"Oh," added Braceway, "another thing. How would you describe this fellow
in addition to the fact that he wore the beard and the gold tooth?"

"Very thin lips," replied Abrahamson slowly, "and high, straight,
aquiline nose, and blond hair, and--and, I should say, rather thin, high
voice."

"Good!" Braceway exclaimed. "Good! Mr. Abrahamson, you've just described
the man who, I believe, committed the murder. And I know where he is."

Morley had been pointed out to him in the hotel earlier in the day, and
Abrahamson's memory sketched a fairly good likeness of the young man as
he remembered him. Why not make certain of it at once?

"You've bee