The tinker laughed in spite of himself. "Certainly; it's very simple. I found these, in a suit of rags which I saw on a tramp the morning you lost the diamonds--and Miss O'Connell. I liked the rags so well that I paid the tramp to change clothes with me; he took mine and gave me his, along with a knockout blow for good measure." The manager of the Inn interrupted with an exclamation of surprise: "So! You were the young fellow they picked up senseless by the stables that morning. When the grooms saw the other man running, they made out it was you who had struck him first." "Wish I had. But I squared it off with him a few days later," the tinker chuckled. "At the time I couldn't make out why he struck me except to get the rest of the money I had; but of course he wanted to get the stones he'd sewed up in these rags and forgotten. I began to suspect something when I found you trailing Miss O'Connell." "See here, young man, and wasn't you the feller that put me on the wrong road twice?" The sheriff laid a hand of the law suggestively against his chest. The tinker chuckled again. "I certainly was. It would have been pretty discouraging for Miss O'Connell if you'd found her before we had the defense ready; and it would have been awkward for you--to have to take a lady in custody." "I cal'ate that's about right." And the sheriff relaxed into a grin. Suddenly he turned to the manager of the Inn and pounded his palm with his fist. "By Jupiter! I betcher that there tramp is the feller that's been cleanin' up these parts for the past two years. Hangs round as a tramp at back doors and stables, and picks up what information he needs to break into the house easy. Never hitched him up in my mind to the thefts afore--but I cal'ate it's the one man--and he's it." "Guess you're right," the tinker agreed. "Last Saturday, when I came upon him again--in an automobile--still in my clothes, we had a final fight for the possession of the rags, which I still wore, and the--" But he never finished. Patsy had sprung to her feet and was looking at him, bewilderment, accusation, almost fright, showing through her tears. "Your clothes--your clothes! You wore a--Then you are--" "Hush!" said the tinker. He turned to the others. "I think that is all, gentlemen. I searched the rags after I had finished my score with the thief and found the stones. I brought them over this afternoon to return to their rightful owner. I might have returned them that day after the play--but I forgot until the sheriff had gone. You are entirely welcome. Good afternoon!" He dismissed them promptly, but courteously, as if the stage had been his own drawing-room and the two had suddenly expressed a desire to take their leave. At the wings he left them and came back direct to George Travis. "There is more thieving to be done this afternoon, and I am going to do it. I am going to steal your future star, right from under your nose; and I shall never return her."