"I think, Mr. Stannard, if all you've told me is true, I must ask you to go with me to Headquarters." "I am ready," said Barry, simply, and the two men went out. XVII Alan Ford Joyce went up to Natalie's room and found the girl sitting up in bed trying to eat some of the dainty breakfast a maid had just brought her. A cap of lace and tiny rosebuds confined the gold hair, and a breakfast jacket of pale blue brocade was round her shoulders. "Joyce," she said, staring at her with big blue eyes, "where did those jewels come from?" "I don't know, Natalie. It's the most mysterious thing I ever heard of. But listen, dear, I've something to tell you. Barry has confessed----" "What!" Natalie almost shrieked the word. "What do you mean?" "Just what I say. Barry has confessed that he killed his father. You suspected him all the time, didn't you?" "Did you?" "Oh, I couldn't--and yet who else could it have been? I did think of Barry at first, and then I decided it couldn't be." "And then you suspected me?" "Oh, Natalie, how can I say? I did and I didn't. I had no notion which way to turn. But now, even though he says so, I can't believe it was Barry." "Barry! Of course it wasn't Barry!" "But he confessed, Natalie." "Of course he confessed. He couldn't help it!" As she spoke, Natalie was getting out of bed, and seating herself at her dressing table began to do up her hair. "If you don't mind going, Joyce, I want to dress. Run along now, I'll be down very soon." "What are you going to do?" Joyce looked at the girl uncertainly, for she was brushing her hair with unwonted vigour. Her eyes were tear-filled, but her face showed a brave, determined expression, and she hurried her toilet as if important matters impended. "Go now, Joyce," and rising, Natalie pushed her gently toward the door. Some minutes later, Natalie came downstairs, in a trim out-of-door costume. Her smart little hat was veiled, and she had a motor coat over her arm. "May I take the little electric, Joyce, and drive it myself?" "Why, yes, of course. Where are you going?" "First, to see Mr. Roberts. And if I'm not home for some hours, don't be alarmed. I may go to--well, I may take a long drive. But I'll be back to dinner." In a moment Joyce saw the little electric coupé whirling down the drive. Straight to Headquarters Natalie went, and found Bobsy Roberts. "Barry Stannard didn't kill his father," she said, without preamble. "You had no right to arrest him." "But he confessed the crime, Miss Vernon." "Don't you know why he did that?" The lovely eyes fell before Bobsy's surprised glance. "No, why? If he is not the criminal?" "Of course he isn't. He said all that to--to save me." Bobsy looked sharply at her. "Is that so? And how am I to know that you're not telling me this to save him?" "You can't know! That's just it. You've not wit enough to know what is the truth and what isn't."