ad Nick's every change of expression,
saw at once that the great detective not only was making some startling
discoveries, but also was arriving at deductions far too subtle and
significant to have been reached by any less keen and practiced
observer.

"What do you make of it, Nick?" whispered Chick, dropping to his knee
beside his companion.

Nick also lowered his voice, and for several minutes the two conversed
in rapid whispers.

"It is a jewel case, Chick; and quite a valuable one."

"So I see."

"I don't think it belonged to this girl. She looks as if she were the
maid, or possibly the companion, of some woman of wealth or distinction.
Her attire also indicates that. Hence so valuable a toy can hardly have
belonged to the girl, but more likely was the property of her mistress."

"No name on it?"

"Not even an initial. Not a mark of any kind."

"It is empty."

"Yes."

"Can the girl have been robbed of its contents, here and in broad
daylight?"

"Worse, Chick!" whispered Nick, between his teeth. "Worse even than
that."

"Good heavens, Nick! What do you mean?"

"Chick, this girl was foully murdered!"

"Murdered!" echoed Chick, with an involuntary gasp. "Can it be
possible?"

"It certainly appears so to me."

"But the means?"

"That is the mystery."

"There are no signs of violence."

"Wait a bit. Notice her right wrist, just back of the thumb and near the
pulse. Notice that tiny red spot, barely observable. It might have been
made with the point of a pin. Do you see, it?"

"Yes, now that you call my attention to it."

"It means something. I am convinced of that."

"Others are not likely to discover it."

"I hope they may not, Chick," Nick hurriedly rejoined. "I am flooded
with ideas and suspicions, which I wish to consider and put in order
before too much of this mystery leaks out. I'll explain later."

"Perhaps her hat pin is poisoned," suggested Chick.

"I don't think that."

"Or possibly--"

"Wait a moment. Look at this box."

"Well?"

"That wrapper was punctured while still on the box," explained Nick.
"Notice that the pin went through the spaces in this metal design, and
then through the silk lining inside."

"Plainly enough, Nick."

"Notice this particular puncture in the interior of the lining."

"By Jove! there's a faint tinge of red around it."

"Left when the pin was withdrawn," whispered Nick, significantly.
"Chick, it's a tinge of blood!"

"I believe you're