ght
me down. I thought maybe you might know something about it."

"Didn't find it?" she sighed. "No, I knew they wouldn't. She was sure
she had taken it up night before last, but I knew she hadn't. Where's
my key?--Oh, yes--stand back and get out of my light so I can find the
keyhole. It's dark enough as it is. That's right. Now come inside. You
can wait for her better in here than out on these steps. Look, will you!
There's her coffee just as she left it. She hasn't had a crumb to eat
to-day. What do you want to see her about? The rest of the work? It's in
the box there."

Pickert, with a swift, comprehensive glance, summed up the apartment
and its contents: the little table by the window with Lady Barbara's
work-basket; the small stove, and pine table set out with the breakfast
things; the cheap chairs; the dresser with its array of china, and the
two bedrooms opening out of the modest interior. Its cleanliness and
order impressed him; so did Martha's unexpected frankness. If she knew
anything of the theft, she was an adept at putting up a bluff.

"When do you expect Mrs. Stanton back?" he began, in an offhand way,
stretching his shoulders as if the long wait on the stairs had stiffened
his joints. "That's her name, ain't it?"

"I expected to find her here," she answered, ignoring his inquiry as to
Lady Barbara's identity. "They are keeping her, no doubt, on some new
work. She hasn't had any breakfast, and now it's long past lunch-time.
And they didn't find the piece of lace? That's bad! Poor dear, she was
near crazy when she found it was gone!"

Pickert had missed no one of the different expressions of anxiety and
tenderness that had crossed her placid face. "No--it hadn't turned
up when I left," he replied; adding, with another stretch, quite as a
matter of course, "she had it all right, didn't she?"

"Had it! Why, she's been nearly a week on it. I helped her all I could,
but her eyes gave out."

"Then you would know it again if you saw it?" The stretch was cut short
this time.

"Of course I'd know it--don't I tell you I helped her fix it?"

The detective turned suddenly and, with a thrust of his chin, rasped
out: "And if one, or both of you, pawned it somewhere round here, you
could remember that, too, couldn't you?"

Martha drew back, her gentle eyes flashing: "Pawned it! What do you
mean?"

The detective lunged toward her. "Just what I say. Now don't get on your
ear, Mrs. Munger." He was the thoroug