The Diamond Pin

She thought over the story Iris had told her of the intruder of the night before, and slowly a vague suggestion of something wrong shaped itself in her brain. She realized that if Iris had gone on an errand, or had gone for a ride with Roger Downing, or any other friend or caller, she would certainly have told Lucille she was going. For Iris was punctilious in her courtesy, and the two women really got along very well together. She called old Polly in and asked her what she thought about it.

"I don't know," and the cook shook her head. "I'd just been talking to her about that pin Mrs. Pell left to her – "

"Good heavens! Polly! That pin again? Why – what is there about that pin? What do you know of it?"

"Well," and the old face was very serious, "I've been acquainted with that pin for years."

"Is it a special pin?"

"Very special."

"Why? What's its value?"

"That I don't know, ma'am, 'cept I'm thinking it's a lucky pin."

"Oh, how ridiculous! Why, you're not even sure the pin is in existence – I mean, that anybody knows of."

"Oh, yes, ma'am, I just gave that pin to Miss Iris this morning."

"You did! Where did you get it?"

"Well, I hooked it offen Agnes."

"What does this all mean? Why did you take it from Agnes? And where did she get it?"

"Well, Miss Darrel, ma'am, it's all mighty queer. I don't say's there's any such thing as luck, and then, I don't say as there isn't. Anyway, Mrs. Pell guarded that pin like everything while she was alive, and she left it to Miss Iris when she died. Don't that look like it was a Luck?"

"Oh, that bequest business was a joke. Surely you know that."

"Not altogether it wasn't. The dime part was, maybe, but that pin – why, I know that pin, I tell you!"

"Do you mean you'd know that pin apart from a lot of other common pins?"

"No'm – I don't know as I can say that – but, well, maybe I could tell it."

"Polly, you're out of your head! But never mind all that now, tell me what you think of Miss Iris' absence? You know her. Would she run off anywhere just before dinner on Sunday, without telling anyone?"

"That she would not! Miss Iris is most considerate and thoughtful. She'd never go away without seeing you first."

"That's what I think. Then where is she?"

"I don't know, ma'am, but – but I'm – I'm awful scared!"

And flinging her apron over her face, as she burst into sobs, Polly ran out of the room.

Thoroughly alarmed, Lucille spoke again to Agnes.

"You're not sure you saw Miss Clyde in that car?"

"Oh, no, ma'am. I didn't see her at all. Only I didn't know the car, and I thought she might be in it. I know Mr. Downing's car, and Mr. Chapin's, and – "

"I think I'll telephone Mr. Chapin. What with murderings and maraudings this house is a frightful place! I almost wish it wasn't mine!"

She called Mr. Chapin on the telephone, and he came over as quickly as he could.

Then she told him of the intruder of the night before, and of the other efforts that had been made to get the pin.

The lawyer smiled. "Nonsense!" he said, "they're not after that pin! They're after something else."

"What?"

"I don't know, but probably the jewels, or memoranda or information as to where the jewels are."

"Where can they be?"

"I've not the slightest idea. I wish now I'd insisted more strongly on having Mrs. Pell's confidence. But she told me that her whole fortune was left to Iris and Win Bannard, and that it was all disclosed in the will's directions. She gave me to understand that the box for Iris and the pocket-book for Win held directions for the possessing of her fortune."

"Was her money all in the jewels?"

"All but a few shares of stock, and a little real estate. Those, however, will help along, for they belong to Iris and young Bannard as her immediate heirs, aside from her will."

"Well, I should think you would have insisted on knowing a little more about things than that!"

"Why should I? I drew her will, I attended to such matters as she asked me to, and it was not my affair where she chose to conceal her wealth, especially as she had given me a sealed box to hand over to her heiress at her death. And, too, Miss Darrel, you didn't know my late client as well as I did. Indeed, I doubt if many people knew her as I did! A lawyer often has queer clients, but I'm sure she set a record for eccentricities! I suppose I drew up a score of wills for her, and Lord knows how many codicils were added! Then, too, I never knew when she would perpetrate one of her silly jokes on me. I've been called over here late at night, to take her dying testamentary directions, only to arrive and find her perfectly well, and laughing at me! I've been given an extra fee for some trifling service, only to find that payment had been stopped at the bank before I could present the check."

"And you stood for such treatment?"

"What could I do? She was an old and valued client; she paid well, and the checks were always honored later, after she had had her fun out of me. And, of course, her tricks were merely tricks. She never did anything dishonest or dishonorable. Then, too, I liked the old lady. Aside from her one foolish fad, she was intelligent and interesting. Oh, Ursula Pell was all right, except for that one bee in her bonnet. Now, I am perfectly certain her hoard of jewels is safely secreted and I think – I hope, she has left directions telling where they are. But if she hasn't, if, dying so unexpectedly, she has neglected to leave the secret, then I fear Iris will never get her inheritance. Why, they may be within a few feet of us, even now, and yet be so slyly hidden as to be irrecoverable."

"I think that's what the man was after last night."

"I daresay. But who was the man?"

"Not an ordinary burglar, for Iris declared he was a gentleman – "

"Gentlemen don't conduct themselves as – "

"You know what I mean! She said he was educated and cultured of speech and manner. Of course, he was a thief. He pretended he wanted the pin, but that was a blind. He was hunting the jewels."

"Well, we'd better hunt Iris. I don't like her unexplained disappearance. Suppose we telephone to all the people we can think of, at whose homes she might be."

But this procedure, though including the Bowens and many other of Iris' intimate acquaintances, brought forth positively no results. Nobody had seen or heard from Iris that day.

At last they telephoned to Hughes, and the detective said he would come to Pellbrook at once.

When Iris realized that she had been actually kidnapped, her feelings were of anger, rather than of fright. The indignity of the thing loomed above her sense of danger or fear of personal injury. The little car, a landaulet, ran smoothly and rapidly, and as soon as they were well away from Pellbrook the stifling cloth was partially removed from her head, and Iris discovered that beside her was a young woman, whose face, though determined, was not at all awe-inspiring. She even smiled at Iris' furious expression, and said, "Now, now, what's the use? You may as well take it quietly."

"Take kidnapping quietly!" blazed Iris. "Would you?"