"Joseph H. Parker," was the reply. "I am an American citizen and this is my daughter. Mr. Cullen appears to be a person of observation. It is true we were at the opera. It is perfectly true we were within a few yards of Lady Orstline when she called out that her necklace was stolen. There's nothing remarkable about that, however, as we occupied adjacent stalls. What I want to point out to you is, though, if you'll allow me, that the necklace I had on the table before me at Stephano's when Mr. Cullen suddenly popped round the screen--the necklace you are now looking at, sir--is of imitation pearls, valued at about ten pounds. I bought it in the Burlington Arcade; it belongs to my daughter, and I was simply examining the clasp, which is scarcely safe." There was a moment's breathless silence. To me Mr. Parker's statement seemed too good to be true; yet he had spoken with the easy confidence of a man who knows what he is about. Standing there, the personification of respectability, a trifle indignant, a trifle contemptuous, his words could not fail to carry with them a certain amount of conviction. The inspector rang a bell by his side. "What are your daughter's initials?" he asked quickly. "E.P.--Eve Parker," Mr. Parker replied. "Look at the back of the gold clasp. There you are," he pointed out--"E.P." Mr. Cullen and the inspector both bent over the necklace. The inspector gave a brief order to a policeman. "The initials on the clasp are certainly E.P.," the inspector admitted slowly. "I do not pretend to be a judge of jewelry myself. However, I have sent for some one who is." A man in plain clothes entered the room. The inspector beckoned to him, showed him the necklace and whispered a question. The man examined the pearls for barely five seconds. Then he handed them back. "Very nice imitation, sir," he pronounced. "There's a place in Bond Street where I should imagine these came from, and another in the Burlington Arcade. Their value is from seven to ten pounds." The inspector dismissed him. He handed the necklace back to Mr. Parker and rose to his feet. "I can only express my most profound regret, sir," he said, "on behalf, of the force. Such a mistake is inexcusable. Mr. Cullen will, I am sure, join in offering you every apology." Mr. Cullen was standing a few yards back. He was biting his lip until it was absolutely colorless. There was a look in his face that was quite indescribable. "If I have made a mistake this time," he muttered; "if I have been premature--I apologize; but--but--" Mr. Parker turned to the inspector. "You know," he said, "I fancy this young man's got what they call on this side a 'down' on me! He's got an idea that I'm a crook--follows me about; doesn't give me a moment's peace, in fact. Say, Mr. Inspector, can't I put this thing right somehow--take him to my banker's--" "Banker's!" Mr. Cullen ejaculated softly. "The only use you have for a banker is to fleece him!"