"At the Thornes' house--you know, there's a Miss Thorne who lives there--the daughter of old Joe S. Thorne." Then, seeing the blank look on his chief's face, Foster explained further. "It seems there was a jewel robbery there last night--a million dollars' worth, the sheriff says." He smiled, for the sheriff was a well-known exaggerator, but he met no answering smile. "They've been telephoning for you to come over." "Who has?" said O'Bannon. Foster thought him unusually slow of understanding this morning, and answered patiently, "Miss Thorne has. There's been a robbery there." The district attorney was not slow in action. "I'll go right over," he said, and left the office. There were some advantages in holding public office. You could be sent for in your official capacity--and stick to it, by heaven! This time he asked no questions at the door, but entered. Morson said timidly, "Who shall I say, sir?" "Say the district attorney." Morson led the way to the drawing-room and threw open the door. "The district attorney," he announced, making it sound like a title of nobility, and O'Bannon and Lydia stood face to face again--or rather he stood. She, leaning back in her chair, nodded an adequate enough greeting to a public servant in the performance of his duty. They were not alone--a slim gray-haired lady, Miss Bennett, was named. "I understood at my office you had sent for me," said he. "I?" There was something wondering in her tone. "Oh, yes, the sheriff, I believe, wanted you to come. All my jewels were stolen last night. He seemed to think you might be able to do something about it." Her tone indicated that she did not share the sheriff's optimism. Miss Bennett, with a long habit of counteracting Lydia's manners, broke in. "So kind of you to come yourself, Mr. O'Bannon." "It's my job to come." "Yes, of course. I think I know your mother." She was very cordial, partly because she felt something hostile in the air, partly because she thought him an attractive-looking young man. "She's so helpful in the village improvement, only we're all just a little afraid of her. Aren't you just a little afraid of her yourself?" "Very much," he answered gravely. Miss Bennett wished he wouldn't just stare at her with those queer eyes of his--a little crazy, she thought. She liked people to smile at her when they spoke. She went on, "Not but what we work all the better for her because we are a little afraid----" Lydia interrupted. "Mr. O'Bannon hasn't come to pay us a social visit, Benny," she said, and this time there was something unmistakably insolent in her tone. O'Bannon decided to settle this whole question on the instant. He turned to Miss Bennett and said firmly, "I should like to speak to Miss Thorne alone." "Of course," said Miss Bennett, already on her way to the door, which O'Bannon opened for her. "No, Benny, Benny!" called Lydia, but O'Bannon had shut the door and leaned his shoulders against it.