“I am sorry to trouble you, Miss Bentham,” he began. “But it occurred to me that it might be worth while hearing what Professor Ched Ramar said to you last night when you were examining the big statue of Buddha in his famous idol room. Everybody has heard of that wonderful image. Your father tells me you examined it closely.” “I did,” she admitted readily. “Professor Ched Ramar showed it to me himself. He only told me that it was a fine specimen. Then he went away. When I was alone, I climbed up to look at the face of the idol, and Doctor Hodgson, who came into the room, spoke to me about it in a general way. Professor Ched Ramar also came in, with my aunt, Mrs. Morrison, and my father. Ched Ramar afterward gave me a small gold idol.” “Yes? Was Doctor Hodgson there at the time?” “I believe so. But I am quite sure Doctor Hodgson had nothing to do with the loss of these papers, any more than Ched Ramar had. You don’t think my visit last night had any connection with the burglary, do you?” she added, with a quizzical smile. He passed over this query, as if it were too absurd to be taken seriously, and turned the conversation by hoping that the ladies were not fatigued by their examination of Ched Ramar’s antiques the night before. “That sort of thing always tires me excessively,” he explained. “I am afraid I ought not to have come to you so early in the morning afterward.” “This is not early, Mr. Carter,” protested Clarice, still smiling. “I am ashamed to be so late. We have only just finished breakfast. By the way, here is the gold idol that was given to me. I was looking at it just now when Mary told me I was wanted in the library, and I forgot to put it down.” She passed the idol to Nick Carter, and he stared at it intently for a few seconds, as he tried to understand why the eyes looked so human, although he knew they were only of skillfully fashioned glass. “I will not detain Miss Bentham any longer,” he said to Bentham. “It was hardly worth while to trouble her at all. But I thought possibly she might have heard something that would put us on the right track.” “You surely don’t suspect Professor Ched Ramar of stealing papa’s papers, do you, Mr. Carter?” she asked, laughing. “I hope you’ll pardon me if I say that you seem to look suspiciously at everybody. That is the way it strikes me now. But I know it is the only way to find out things, and I do hope you will find papa’s valuable papers. I hate to see him so worried.” With a playful wave of the hand to Nick Carter, as if she were asking his pardon again for speaking so bluntly, the girl went out of the room, followed by her rather stately aunt, and Chick whistled softly to himself. “She’s a mighty pretty girl,” he muttered. “But she’s rather too fresh in the way she talks to the chief. He never suspects anybody without very good reason.” CHAPTER VI. BROKEN THREADS.