"Good gracious!" cried Iris. "I don't want the pin! In fact, I'm glad it's gone. Now, they won't be kidnapping me to get it! But I'm going to find the jewels. And I'm going to start on a new tack. I'm no good at solving mysteries, but I can investigate. I'm going to Chicago----" "Whatever for?" exclaimed Lucille; "I'll go with you!" "No; I'm going alone, and I'm going because I feel sure I can find out something there. I'll see the minister of the church Auntie attended, and see if she promised him a chalice, or if his church has a crypt, or if those people she spoke of in her will--that firm, you know--can tell me anything about the receipt that was in the pocket-book she left to Win." "But it wasn't in the pocket-book!" reminded Chapin. "It was when Aunt Ursula made that will. The murderer took it, and, Mr. Chapin, that lets Win out! Why should he steal a paper that was meant for him anyway?" "He didn't know then that it was left to him, did he?" "I don't know that, I'm sure. But I know Win didn't kill Aunt Ursula, and it's awful to keep him shut up!" "I think myself they hardly had enough evidence to arrest him on, but Hughes thought they did, and the district attorney is hard at work on the case now." "Yes, hard at work!" Iris spoke scornfully, "what's he doing, I'd like to know." "These things move slowly, Iris----" "Well, I'll do a little quick work, then, and show them how. I'm going to Chicago to-morrow, and I'll be gone several days, but I'll be back as soon as possible and there'll be something doing, or I'll know why!" "Your energy is all right, Iris," said Chapin, "but a bit misdirected----" "Nothing of the sort," snapped Iris, who considered the lawyer an old fogy; "it's time somebody got busy, and I don't take much stock in the local police." "But about the pin," pursued Lucille, "I think you ought to find out who stole it just now, Iris. Maybe it was somebody in the house. Where is Purdy?" "Purdy!" cried Iris, "don't suspect him, Lucille! Why, he is as faithful and honest as I am myself." "But where was he?" "I don't know, and I don't care; he wasn't in here stealing the pin." "Perhaps it's still in the chair," suggested Chapin. But it wasn't. A careful search showed that, and as inquiries proved that Purdy and his wife were in the kitchen and Agnes had been waiting on Iris at her belated dinner, there was really no reason to suspect the servants. Campbell, the chauffeur, was in the garage, and there were no other servants about on Sunday. The disappearance of the pin was as inexplicable as the murder, and Iris decided to give up the house mysteries, and look in Chicago for new light. * * * * * She started the next day, Lucille and Agnes hovering over her in a solicitude of final preparations. "I'll take only a suitcase," Iris declared, "for I can't be bothered with a trunk." "I wish you'd let Agnes go with you," urged Lucille, who hated to have the girl go alone.