“Yes, sir; the very ones she wore the day—the day she—was lost.” “I’ll take charge of them,” he said, simply, and put them in his pocket. Kelly and his broom failed to find anything further, and suddenly realizing the side light it gave on her housekeeping habits, Hannah began to explain how everything was going at sixes and sevens of late. “Of course it would,” Zizi soothed her, as Wise returned to the hall. “Now, Hannah, tell me, did you find anywhere, any more of Miss Betty’s beads?” “I found two, when I was sweepin’ here one day. But I slipped ’em in this drawer an’ never remembered them again. Here they be.” She retrieved the two beads, and Zizi took them. “Did she wear a long string of them?” “No, miss, a fairly short string. About like that you’ve on yourself.” Zizi’s modest little string of black beads hung perhaps four inches below her throat. She examined the yellow beads, saw they were of amber, and put them away in her little handbag. “Now, Hannah,” she went on, “you and I are friends——” “An’ that I’m proud to be, miss!” “And you must help me all you can——” “Help you what?” “Find out the truth about Miss Betty,—and perhaps,—find her.” “Are you,—are you——” “Yes, I’m a detective,—that is, I’m the assistant of Mr Wise, and he’s the greatest detective in the world.” “Is he that, now?” and Kelly, unable to resist the fascination of this queer visitor, joined the group. “Yes, he is. And he is going to solve the whole mystery,—if we all help. And, maybe we’ll help best by doing nothing. And especially by saying nothing. So, you two keep quite still about finding these beads, won’t you, and about matters in general. You talk over things with the villagers, I suppose, but don’t say anything about what happens up here now. Discuss the past, all you like, but not the present. See?” They didn’t see clearly, but they were more than ready to promise whatever this girl asked, and then between the two, Zizi was served with such a luncheon as might have befitted a royal guest. “Goodness, gracious, sakes alive!” she exclaimed, “don’t bring me anything more, I beg of you. I shall go to sleep like an anaconda and not wake up for six months!” Then, while the detective ate his luncheon at the table with Minna Varian and her secretary, Zizi went in search of the nurse. She found Mrs Fletcher eating her meal from a tray in her sitting room. It hurt her pride to do this, but Minna Varian declared that she saw quite enough of Fletcher between meals and must have some respite. “Nice to eat alone, I think,” was Zizi’s observation as she entered, uninvited, and perched herself on the arm of a nearby chair. “You’re Fletcher, aren’t you? Now, won’t you please tell me some things confidentially? I see, you’re a woman of deep perceptions, and are not to be caught napping. Tell me, do you think Mrs Varian went down stairs a second time last night?”