could take it, and in locking
up such a valueless thing as a cheap sham leather bag, to say nothing
of a bottle of ink.

Mrs. Bunting once more opened out each of the tiny drawers below the
looking-glass, each delicately fashioned of fine old mahogany. Mr.
Sleuth kept his money in the centre drawer.

The glass had only cost seven-and-sixpence, and, after the auction
a dealer had come and offered her first fifteen shillings, and then
a guinea for it. Not long ago, in Baker Street, she had seen a
looking-glass which was the very spit of this one, labeled
"Chippendale, Antique. L21 5s 0d."

There lay Mr. Sleuth's money--the sovereigns, as the landlady well
knew, would each and all gradually pass into her's and Bunting's
possession, honestly earned by them no doubt but unattainable--in
act unearnable--excepting in connection with the present owner of
those dully shining gold sovereigns.

At last she went downstairs to await Mr. Sleuth's return.

When she heard the key turn in the door, she came out into the
passage.

"I'm sorry to say I've had an accident, sir," she said a little
breathlessly. "Taking advantage of your being out I went up to
dust the drawing-room, and while I was trying to get behind the
chiffonnier it tilted. I'm afraid, sir, that a bottle of ink that
was inside may have got broken, for just a few drops oozed out,
sir. But I hope there's no harm done. I wiped it up as well as
I could, seeing that the doors of the chiffonnier are locked."

Mr. Sleuth stared at her with a wild, almost a terrified glance.
But Mrs. Bunting stood her ground. She felt far less afraid now
than she had felt before he came in. Then she had been so
frightened that she had nearly gone out of the house, on to the
pavement, for company.

"Of course I had no idea, sir, that you kept any ink in there."

She spoke as if she were on the defensive, and the lodger's brow
cleared.

"I was aware you used ink, sir," Mrs. Bunting went on, "for I have
seen you marking that book of yours--I mean the book you read
together with the Bible. Would you like me to go out and get you
another bottle, sir?"

"No," said Mr. Sleuth. "No, I thank you. I will at once proceed
upstairs and see what damage has been done. When I require you I
shall ring."

He shuffled past her, and five minutes later the drawing-room bell
did ring.

At once, from the door, Mrs. Bunting saw that the chiffonnier was
wide open, and that the shelves were empty save