sounded really cheerful, "let's see where we're at, Mr. Darcy. Have
you looked over the stock all you want to?"

They were in a room in the rear of the jewelry store--the city and
county detectives, the reporters and James Darcy--with Policeman
Mulligan on guard near the cut glass and silver gleaming in the
showcases. On guard near a dark red stain in the floor, scarcely
dry--it was still soaking into the wood. The body of the murdered
woman had been taken away, followed by a sigh of relief from James
Darcy, who, try as he did, could not keep his eyes from seeking it.

"The stock is checked up as well as I can do it in a short time,"
replied the jewelry worker, who had spent some time going over the
store under the watchful eyes of Carroll and Thong. "I'm not sure
anything is taken. If there is, as I said, it can't be much. But I'll
go over everything more carefully, checking up the books. That will
take a few days, but I can do it while I'm here arranging for the
funeral."

"Not here you can't do it," broke in Carroll, with a short laugh.

"Not here?" There was startled amazement in Darcy's question.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you won't be here. You'd better come with us. You'll have
to, in fact. The captain'll want to have a talk with you, and I guess
the prosecutor the same. How about it, Jim?" and he looked over at