"Mrs. Slade," said McKenna, not noticing the slip, "you have just given me a profound confidence. Would you trust in my power to keep it, if, supposing I knew anything, I should tell you? Ask your husband himself and tell me yourself. I am curious also." Mrs. Kildair, who saw in the politic evasion a feminine answer, nodded and drew back with a shudder. At this moment Kiki entering announced that Mr. Beecher was below. "Tell him the truth," said McKenna quickly. "That is, three quarters of the truth. Leave it to me." When Beecher entered, expectation and long-restrained curiosity on his face, McKenna, with a look of crestfallen defeat which completely deceived him, said immediately: "Mr. Beecher, have you that envelope I gave you?" "Am I to open it?" said Beecher eagerly, bringing it out. "On the contrary," said McKenna, taking it quickly. He took it and could not resist examining the edges to see if it had been tampered with. "This is one of my failures, Mr. Beecher," he said, tearing it into small pieces. "I’ve got too much vanity to let you see what an ass I’ve been." "What does this mean?" said Beecher, standing open-mouthed. "It means, Teddy," said Mrs. Kildair severely, "that it is entirely your fault." "My fault!" "Yes, your fault. You neglected to tell Mr. McKenna the one thing that was important." "What thing—what do you mean?" "That Mr. Garraboy went off with your coat by mistake." "Yes, Mr. Beecher," said McKenna, shaking his head, "by not telling me that one detail, you’ve made a fool out of me." "Then, Garraboy took it!" said Beecher, his face lighting up with a smile of triumph. "Garraboy took it, planted it in your pocket and then faked the ring at the table. The ring was returned through a woman who guessed it and had it restored. Her name is a secret, but you are at liberty to guess." "Miss Lille," said Beecher to himself. This dénouement, which coincided so closely with his own divination, completely convinced him. "If you’ve no further use for me," said McKenna, with the same hang-dog look, "I’ll be going. Another time I hope to serve you better." "Thank you," said Mrs. Kildair, who contrived to add to the words a little smile, comprehensible only to the detective. "Permit me to give you my profound congratulations," said McKenna, taking her hand with a bow that made Beecher open his eyes in wonder. "I wish you every success." "_Au revoir_, McKenna," said Mrs. Kildair, still smiling. "Good-night, McKenna," said Beecher in turn. "Oh, you," said the detective, going off grumbling; "I have a bone to pick with you." Beecher laughed guiltily when the door had closed. "By Jove," he said, "McKenna certainly is in bad humor. I’m sorry. But he was off on a tangent, wasn’t he?" *CHAPTER XXVI* "Just one thing I would like to know," said Beecher when Mrs. Kildair, following McKenna’s lead, had left off with Garraboy’s departure.