"Good Heavens!" cried Horace. "He heard me."
He pointed to the colonel, who stood like one who has been struck upon
the head.
"Gone!" he cried, rushing toward them. "You deceived me!"
Well, they searched the drawer, and the clasp certainly was not there.
Horace explained how he had deceived the colonel by quickly putting
another piece of jewelry into the little case when he found it empty.
"I am clever at sleight-of-hand," said he, "or I could never have worked
it. I just flashed it before your eyes, uncle, and made you think that
you saw the clasp. Forgive me; I thought it was the best."
"I will forgive you, Horace," said Colonel Richmond, gently; "but now
you must believe. And you, too, Mr. Carter. Here is proof positive."
They locked the drawer and left the vault.
In the ante-chamber Nick turned to Horace.
"I suppose you'll want to knock my head off when I tell you what I now
propose to do," said the detective. "But I think it ought to be done."
"What is it?" asked Horace.
"I think you ought to be searched."
"Exactly my own idea," said Horace. "It is only fair to you. Proceed."
Nick searched him. The diamond clasp was not found. Horace certainly did
not have it.
"I hope you're satisfied," he said to Nick. "You know perfectly well
that I have had no opportunity to dispose of it. There wasn't much
chance in that vault."
Nick laughed.
"I should say not," he replied. "I'm afraid we shall have to fall back
upon the theory of the colonel."
"No theory," cried he; "but the living truth, and now proven before you
both. But let me ask, Mr. Carter, why you suspected my nephew of taking
the clasp."
"I didn't," replied Nick promptly. "I searched him in order to remove
every possibility."
"Surely he would have no motive for such an action."
"None that I can see," said Nick, with perfect sincerity.
They proceeded at once to Mrs. Stevens' house.
It was about seven o'clock when they arrived.
They drove up from the station, and on the way picked up Patsy.
During the remainder of the drive, he was busy communicating with Nick
in their sign language.
"Miss Stevens is in her room," said Patsy. "She has had a doctor with
her almost all the time. He refuses to say anything. I believe, upon my
soul, that I shot her last night."
Annie O'Neil, the servant, answered the bell.
She ushered them into the parlor, and said that Mrs. Stevens was in the
room of her daughter who was quit
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