It was in perfect order, except that the robe, just taken from the other part of the house, lay across the back of a chair, and the handkerchiefs, just taken from the dresser of her mistress, lay on the bed. So Mrs. Maynard had not really regained them, after all! “Well,” thought the detective, “she may have ordered the girl to get them out of sight. It is a wonder to me that she did not think of that sooner. We should have been all at sea had she ordered that floor swept early this morning.” Nick went to where his assistant stood and announced that he had about concluded his work there. “What did you find in the closet?” Chick asked. Nick did not reply immediately. He seemed to be in one of his brooding moods. He walked back to the rear room again and stood at the closet door with his measuring tape in his hands. Again he went to the room where the dead man lay and studied the position of the body and the character of the wound which had resulted in instant death. Once more he went over the hall leading to the door of the west room, this time using a glass on every inch of it. Chick, standing at the door of Charley’s room, heard him mutter: “It isn’t possible. I surely must be mistaken. And yet here it is; in black and red, literally. It is too brutal to be true! Too brutal! Too unnatural!” Chick pondered over the words for a long time. Nick was not much given to talking his thoughts aloud, and Chick knew that he must be greatly moved to do so now. But Chick knew that his chief had made some discovery which he did not care to communicate, because of his uncertainty as to its bearing on the case. “It’s an odd case,” said Nick presently. “We can only trace the stolen gems to members of the family, and there is the murder.” “But in terror of discovery,” said Chick, “is it not possible that even a member of the family might have dealt the blow which killed the old man?” Nick made no reply. He walked down the hall leading to the servants’ quarters, and examined the floor both at the door and near it. The cunning maid had swept the floor clean along the path of travel with the robe, but Nick continued his investigations along the walls, where the robe had not touched. At last he turned away and, accompanied by his assistant, passed down the stairs and entered the parlor on the floor below. There they found Charley awaiting their arrival. Nick closed the door which communicated with other parts of the house, and asked: “How long has the maid been here?” Charley smiled. “Don’t waste your time there,” he said. “She came from Paris with aunt ten or more years ago, and is devoted to the family.” “When was your aunt married to Mr. Maynard?” was the next question. “About ten years ago. They met first in Paris.” “Then the maid was with your aunt before the marriage?” “I think so. She is more of a companion than a maid, though.” “How long has Anton lived here?” “About a year.” “And before that time?” “He lived in Paris.”