Nick Carter could not charge Ledger Dinwiddie with the theft of the jewels, because there was absolutely no evidence against him to support such a theory; there was only the statement of Nan, that she had seen him with them in his possession, in the library, during the night when they were stolen. That would be the unsupported word of one person against another—and Jimmy, as Ledger Dinwiddie, would not come off second best in such a scene. Nan could not, or at least would not, deny her past history, if it came to a show-down, and Jimmy would have to deny only that he was Jimmy, and to bring forward his proofs that he was, in reality, Dinwiddie. Nick had had no opportunity to find out the exact location of Chick’s room. Rooms had not been assigned to either of them until it was too late to do that. “It is a remarkable circumstance,” the detective told himself, in thought. “Here is a case where I know to a certainty the identity of the thief, and yet have no means of establishing the fact; a case where I know, approximately, where the stolen property is concealed, and yet I dare not make an open search for them; a case where the criminal is in a position to look me in the eyes and defy me, simply because his own proofs are far better and more convincing than any that I can supply.” It was a remarkable circumstance. The detective was cogitating upon these conditions when there came a low tapping against the panel of his door, and he sprang to his feet, snapped off the electric lights, and opened the door. The hall outside was only dimly lighted, and Nick discovered, as he opened the door, the figure of a woman, clothed in a silken princess wrapper, and with a large veil, such as are worn in automobiles, thrown over her head, gliding rapidly toward the top of the stairs. Nick followed swiftly, having not a doubt that the figure was Nan’s, and that she was conducting him to one of the rooms on the parlor floor for the purposes of further conversation; but she was so far in advance of him that he could not see her distinctly, and he did not dare to call to her lest he should arouse other members of the household. But the figure ahead of the detective did not approach the library door when it reached the parlor floor of the house; it passed the door, still keeping far in advance of Nick. It hastened to the rear of the house, it opened a door that was there, which gave upon a back porch—and instantly, when that happened, the air was filled with the ringing of gongs, and the house itself—all of it, it seemed—was flooded with light. Nick Carter realized at once, if too late, just what had happened.