Mr. Janney leaned forward over his clasped hands, feeling wan and shriveled. "If your surmise is right," he said, "where has she put them?" "If!" echoed the other. "I don’t see any if about it. You can’t suspect either of the men servants—reliable people of established character—nor Miss Maitland. A girl in her position—even if she happened to be dishonest, which I don’t for a moment think she is—wouldn’t tackle a job as big as that. Come, Mr. Janney, we don’t need to dodge around the stump. As soon as I’d spoken I saw you thought Mrs. Price had done it." The old man nodded and said sadly: "I did." "Would you mind telling me why you did?" There was nothing for it but to tell, and he told, the detective suppressing a grin of triumph. It cleared up everything, was as conclusive as if they’d seen her commit the act. "As for where she put them," he said, "she may have a hiding place in the house that we haven’t discovered, or cached them outside. In matters like this women sometimes show a remarkable cunning. I’ve looked up her movements on the Saturday and it’s possible she hid them somewhere in the woods. She left the house at twelve, carrying a silk work bag, walked past Ferguson’s place and talked there with him in the garden for about fifteen minutes, went on to the beach, sat there a while, and then walked to the Fairfax house on the bluff, where she stayed to lunch, coming back here about half-past four. She had ample opportunity during that time and in the places she passed through to find a cache for them." Mr. Janney raised a gray, pitiful face: "Mr. Kissam, if Mrs. Janney knew this it would kill her." Kissam gave back an understanding look: "That’s why I came to you." "Then it must stop here—with me." The old man spoke with a sudden, fierce vehemence. "It _can’t_ go further. The girl’s been a torment and a trouble for years. I won’t let her end by breaking her mother’s heart, bringing her gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Good God, I’d rather say I did it myself." "There’s no need for that. We can let it fizzle out, die down gradually." He gave a slight, sardonic smile. "I’ve happened on this sort of thing before, Mr. Janney. The rich have their skeletons in the closet, and I’ve helped to keep ’em there, shut in tight." "Then for heaven’s sake do it in this case—help me hide this skeleton. Keep up the search for a while so that Mrs. Janney won’t suspect anything; play your part. Mr. Kissam, if you’ll aid me in keeping this dark there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to repay you."