We weren’t very talkative during the rest of the lunch. The thoughts of old Eagle-Eye seemed to be running mostly on the man in pajamas. “You said he wasn’t near as big as your Uncle Alec. Was he noticeably small; smaller, say, than any of the men in the party?” “No,” Punch said, “I don’t think he was. He just looked about ordinary. Of course, I didn’t see him very well, except his legs, and I didn’t look at him very hard. I just thought he was somebody going to the bathroom, until he started up-stairs. I think he looked sort of stout and clumsy, as if he filled his pajamas rather full.” “Are you sure it _was_ a man. I know you didn’t think of it at the time, but mayn’t it have been a woman? I believe they wear pajamas sometimes. And in any sort of men’s clothes they’re likely to look heavy.” I could see that the idea attracted Punch. It seemed to offer a loophole of escape from his mystery. But he was too honest a witness to avail himself of it. “No,” he said, “I don’t think it was. I don’t think a woman would have walked along like that.” “You’re probably right,” the old man agreed. “Most women would look like women even if they had on a man’s pajamas. We’ll stick to the men for the present. Stout and stocky, medium height; does that describe anybody in the party?” Punch laughed. “The only one it describes is Bruce Applebury himself,” he said. Mr. Smith didn’t laugh. “What are _his_ pajamas like?” he asked. “Sort of tan color,” said Punch, “with red stripes.” I spoke up in the interests of common sense. “Surely you couldn’t suspect....” “I’d suspect anybody,” the old man asserted, “when we’re concerned with a thing like that necklace. Oh, not suspect if you dislike the word--but consider as possibly involved. I admit my point of view is rather specialized.” “He played tennis and swam practically from the time he came to the house until he dressed for dinner,” I pointed out, “and the loss of the necklace was discovered before he’d finished dressing.” “Probably, then, he didn’t take it,” Mr. Smith conceded. “But he may have brought it back, and that’s just as important a part of the mystery.” Without waiting to allow time for that to sink in, he turned to Punch. “When is he--when are he and Judy expected back from town?” he asked. “There’s a train about three. I think they’ll surely come on that, because they’re going to rehearse the wedding this afternoon. You’ll come over for that, won’t you?” Eagle-Eye took this invitation with a twinkle. “Old men are supposed to take naps after lunch,” he said. “Still, I may turn up. If I do, suppose, since we’re already in mystery up to the neck, that you greet me as if we were meeting for the first time since Paris. Can we get away with it? Did anybody know you were coming here to lunch?” “No,” said Punch. “I just sort of disappeared. I suppose I’d better be going back now, though, or they may begin wondering where I am. I _could_ eat another lunch, of course.”