“Rats!” Webber blurted derisively. “Sure of it? That’s a fat question. Do you think I’ve been hanging around here for six months and don’t know Chester Clayton by sight? I know it was he, Nick. I would stake my life on it. Here’s Vernon. Ask him.” Nick turned to the head clerk, who had been listening over the marble counter, within a few feet of which the detectives were standing. “What do you say, Mr. Vernon?” he inquired. “I can speak as emphatically as Mr. Webber,” was the reply. “I know positively that Mr. Clayton took both jewel cases from me.” “You would not admit, then, that you could be mistaken?” “Impossible--utterly impossible!” Vernon forcibly declared. “Why, Mr. Carter, he stood as near to me as you are at this moment. He is not a man who could be successfully impersonated by another.” “Certainly not,” put in Webber flatly. “His smooth-shaved face could not be duplicated,” added Vernon. “The man was Clayton, with Clayton’s features, eyes, voice, and manner of speaking. Furthermore, an impersonator, if that is conceivable, could not have had on Clayton’s clothing. I would have detected any change since morning. I noticed his suit, his navy-blue necktie, and his carbuncle scarfpin, when I gave him Mademoiselle Falloni’s jewel casket over the counter. Mistake--that’s utterly absurd, out of the question.” Nick did not argue the point. “How large is the casket?” he inquired. “About a foot long and eight inches square on the ends,” said Vernon. “It is made of aluminum and it has two combination locks.” “And Madame Escobar’s?” “That is a leather-covered case, about half as large.” “Both of these thefts, then, if such they are, took place in about twenty minutes?” said Nick inquiringly. “Just about that, Mr. Carter,” Vernon nodded. “What did Clayton say, or do, when informed of the circumstances?” “He said very little, except to repeatedly assert that he had not been out of his private office,” said Vernon. “He appeared nonplused, completely staggered for a few moments, and then he suddenly ran through his private office and out into the adjoining corridor, where he began searching in all directions for a man who had been with him all the while in his private office--or so he said,” Vernon added significantly. “Well, well, if that man can be found, he will corroborate Clayton and settle the----” “But he cannot be found, Nick,” Webber put in forcibly. “Clayton cannot even recall his name. No man inquired for him at the desk. No man was seen going to the door of his private office. No man was seen to leave it. The elevator boy in that corridor is equally positive, on the contrary, that he saw Clayton twice on the stairs. Others saw him also, and it’s absurd to suppose all are mistaken.” “You speak as if thoroughly convinced, Webber, that Mr. Clayton has stolen both jewel cases; that he has suddenly turned from an upright and honorable man and become a criminal,” Nick said, more forcibly.