"That's a shame! It'll never work that way--never! I've got to go out
and see if I can't get it mended. Wonder if there's a decent sporting
goods store in this part of town. I'll go out and have a look."

He made himself ready, taking the two parts of the fishing rod with
him. Inquiry at the hotel desk supplied him with the information as to
the location of the store, and the detective was soon out in the wet
streets, breathing in deep of the damp air--for it was fresh and that
was what the colonel liked.

Somehow or other the address of the jewelry store clung to his mind,
and, almost unconsciously, he found himself heading in that direction.

"Well, I am a fool!" he murmured, as he passed the place, now ghostly
with its one light in front of the safe. The police had taken charge,
pending the arrival of a relative of Mrs. Darcy's. Inside, the cut
glass and silver gleamed as of old, but on the floor, sunk deep in the
grain of the wood now, was the spot of blood--fit to keep company with
the red rubies in the locked safe.

"Quite a place," murmured the colonel, as he passed on toward the
sporting goods store. "Quite a place! Oh, hang it! I must get it out
of my mind!"

In spite of his rather exacting demands regarding a ferrule for his
rod, he found what he wanted and, feeling quite satisfied now, as he
noted that the weather showed some slight signs of clearing, the
colonel started back for his hotel, walking slowly, for it was not yet
late.