Marjorie Blair smiled bravely at him. “Don’t be alarmed for me, Professor Kent,” she said. “What I most want is to have everything cleared up—everything!” “First, your jewels, then.” Kent turned to Preston Jax, who handed him a package. Opening it, Kent displayed the wonderful Grosvenor rose-topazes, with a miscellaneous lot of rings sparkling amid their coils. With a cry, Marjorie caught up the necklace. “Are all the remainder of the lost valuables there, Mrs. Blair?” asked Kent. She glanced carelessly at the rings. “I think so. Yes. But this is what matters to me.” “These are all that Preston Jax found on the body.” Alexander Blair leaned from his seat the better to take Preston Jax, at the other end of the crescent, under consideration. “It was you who found the body?” he demanded. “Yes,” said the astrologer uneasily. “Were you alone when you found it?” “Yes. No. I don’t know. There was a man somewheres near. I heard him, but I never saw him.” “Was Mr. Francis Sedgwick with you that night?” pursued Mr. Blair in measured tones. “I never saw Mr. Sedgwick until to-day.” There was a little soft sigh of relief from where Marjorie Blair sat. “That may or may not be true,” said Alexander Blair sternly. “It is the word of a man who has robbed a dead body, if, indeed, he did not also kill—” “Steady, Mr. Blair,” broke in Chester Kent. “Perhaps, considering who is present, we would better approach this in a somewhat calmer spirit.” “I didn’t kill or rob any one.” The words seemed to be jerked out from between Preston Jax’s teeth by the spasmodic quiverings of his chin. “How came you by my daughter’s jewels, then, if you did not take them from the body?” “Who ever said I didn’t take ’em from the body?” retorted the other. “I did take ’em. But it wasn’t robbery. And what I want to know is, how did they come to be on the body, anyhow? What was that Astræa woman doing with your daughter’s rings and necklace? Tell me that!” “Wait a moment,” put in Kent. “Explain to Mr. Blair, Jax, what your purpose was in taking the jewels.” “To hide ’em. I thought the less there was on the body to identify it, the better chance I’d have of getting away. I was so scared that I guess I was half crazy, anyway. And now, I hear, she never has been identified. Is that right?” Sheriff Schlager half rose from his chair. “Ain’t you told ’em, Professor Kent?” Kent shook his head. “Nor you, Mr. Blair?” “No.” “Then I don’t see why we can’t keep it amongst ourselves,” said the sheriff. “Gansett Jim’s tight as a clam. Nobody’ll ever get anything out of him. And, Lord knows, the less that’s known of it the better I’m suited. I ain’t none too proud of my part in it.” “There is no reason why it should ever be known outside of this room,” said Kent, and, at the words, Alexander Blair exhaled a pent-up breath of relief. “But it is due to one person here that she should know everything. The question is how to make it clear in the best and—and kindest way.”