This advice seemed good to Nick. He passed a quiet evening in the house, and nobody but Mrs. Pond referred to the robberies. Horace managed to quiet her quickly. But the next morning after breakfast she came to Nick with a very long face. "My father has been talking to me," she said, "and I'm going to lose those jewels surely, unless you do something and do it very quickly. I don't care for their value, but they're mine by right, and I mean to keep them if I can. But, of course, I can't bear to make my father's life miserable. It will probably end by my compelling my husband to let me give them up." Nick had his doubts about the possibility of such a thing, and they were made certainties very soon afterward. Mr. Pond arrived unexpectedly. When the story was told him, he "danced the war-dance," as our young friend Patsy might have expressed it. "You don't seem to realize the importance of this matter," he exclaimed. "Why, it's a million-dollar robbery, that's what it is! If we give up the jewels, the colonel will give us their value. By jingo, he'll have to. "Well, what's that but the theft of a million from him?" Nick was compelled to confess that it was just that, and nothing else. "And who'll reap the proceeds?" continued Pond. "Why, the Stevenses, of course. Nobody else gets anything out of it. They're playing on the colonel's superstitions for a million dollar stake. "Now, Mr. Carter, you go ahead and work this thing out. Catch the thief. Don't let the colonel get you out of the way. If there's a question of money, I'm good for the best fee you can name." Nick's first move that day was to go to Mrs. Stevens' house. She lived well on her small income. It was a nice old country-house, with grounds of considerable extent, and a stable in which two good horses were kept. Nick rode over there on one of Colonel Richmond's fine saddle-horses. As the detective rode up the winding, shaded walk toward the house, he noticed a man-servant just ahead of him. This servant had a newspaper and some letters in his hand. He seemed to have come from the village post-office. Leaning over the railing of the veranda, as if waiting for this servant, was one of the handsomest girls Nick had ever seen. She was a beauty of the dashing, dark-eyed type--a girl of courage and strong will. The servant gave her the letters just as Nick came in sight. He not only gave her those he had been carrying in his hand, but he drew one from his pocket with a motion that suggested secrecy. Nick rode up to the veranda, introduced himself, and asked to see Mrs. Stevens. "Let James take your horse," said the girl. "Come into the house, if you please. I will speak to my mother." Nick went into the cool and pretty parlor. Miss Stevens left the room for a moment, and then returned with her mother. The detective spoke of the occurrences of the day before, and requested permission to see the room in which the jewelry had so mysteriously appeared.