The Diamond Pin

"Yes, yes, in Missy Pell's room."

But Fibsy began to think the clouded intellect was merely repeating words spoken to it, and he asked, "Who put pin in chair for Sam to steal?"

"Who?" and the blank, foolish face was inquiring.

"Campbell?"

"No, no! not Campbell!"

"No, no, it was Agnes."

"No! not Agnes – "

"Who, then?" Fibsy held his breath, lest he disturb the evident effort the poor lad was making to remember.

"Missy Iris," Sam said at last, "yes, Missy Iris, Missy Iris – yes, Missy – "

"There, there," Fibsy shut him up, "don't say that again. Did you see her?"

"Yes, by window. Then, Sam steal pin. It is a sin to steal a pin. It is a sin to steal a pin – it is – "

But Fibsy set to work to turn the poor befuddled mind in another direction, and after a time he succeeded.

CHAPTER XIV

FIBSY AND SAM

"There are two things to find," Fleming Stone said, "the murderer and the pin. There are two things to find out, how the murderer got away, and why the pin is valuable."

Stone persisted in his belief that the pin was of value, and that in some way it would lead to the discovery of the jewels. He had read all of Ursula Pell's diary, and though it gave no definite assurance, there were hints in it that strengthened his theory. Before he had been in the Pell house twenty-four hours, he had learned all he could from the examination of the whole premises and the inspection of all the papers and books in Mrs. Pell's desk. He declared that the murderer was after the pin, and that, failing to find it, he had maltreated Ursula Pell in a fit of rage at his failure.

"She was of an irritating nature, you tell me," Stone said, "and it may well be that she not only refused to give up the pin, but teased and tantalized the intruder who sought it."

"But what use could the pin be as a clue to the jewels?" Lucille Darrel asked. "I can't imagine any theory that would explain that."

"I can imagine a theory," Stone responded, "but it is merely a theory – a surmise, rather; and it is so doubtful, at best, I'd rather not divulge it at present. But the pin must be found."

"I haven't found it, but I've a notion of which way to look," said Fibsy, who had just entered the room.

It was Mrs. Pell's sitting room, and Fleming Stone was still fingering some packets of papers in the desk.

"Out with it, Fibs, for I'm going over to see Mr. Bannard now, and I want all your information before I go."

So Fibsy told of what Sam had said, and of the snatch of song he had sung.

"Good enough as far as it goes," commented Stone, "but your source of knowledge seems a bit uncertain."

"That's just it," said Fibsy. "That's why I didn't tell you this last night. I thought I'd tackle friend Boobikins this morning and see if I could get more of the real goods. But, nixie. Sam says he has the pin, but he doesn't know where it is."

"I'm afraid you're trying to draw water from an empty well, son; better try some other green fields and pastures new."

"I know it, Mr. Stone, but s'pose you just speak to the innocent before you go away. You can tell if he knows anything."

"Why should Sam steal the pin?" Iris asked, her eyes big with amazement.

"You can't tell what such people will do," Fibsy returned. "He may have seen you hiding it, as he says he did, and he may have come in and stolen it, just because of a mere whimsey in his brain. Is he around here much?"

"Quite a good deal, of late. He's fond of Agnes, and he trails her about, like a dog after its master. Aunt Ursula wouldn't have him around much when she was here, but Miss Darrel doesn't mind."

"I don't like him," said Lucille, "but I am sorry for him, and he does adore Agnes. I think he ought to be put in an institution."

"Oh, no," said Iris, "he isn't bad enough for that. He's not really insane, just feeble-minded. He's perfectly harmless."

"Bring him in here," suggested Stone.

Fibsy ran out, and came back with the half-witted boy.

"Hello, Sam," said Stone, in an off-handed, kindly way, "you're the boy for us. Now, where did you say you found that pin?"

"Here," and Sam pushed his hand down in the big chair, in the very spot where Iris had concealed it.

"Good boy! How'd you get in this room?"

"Through window in other room – walked in here!" He spoke with pride in his achievement. But at Stone's next question, a look of deep cunning came into his eyes, and he shook his head. For the detective said, "Where is the pin now, Sam?"

The lack-luster eyes gleamed with an uncanny wisdom, and the stupid face showed a stubborn denial, as he said, "I donno, I donno, I donno."

And then he broke forth again into the droning song:

    "It is a sin to steal a pin,
    As well as any greater thing!"

This couplet he repeated, in his peculiarly insistent way, until they were all nearly frantic.

"Stop that!" ordered Lucille. "Put him out of the room, somebody. Hush up, Sam!"

"Wait a minute," said Stone, "listen, Sam, what will you take to show me where the pin is?"

"Dollars, dollars – a lot of dollars!"

"Two?" and Stone drew out his wallet.

"Yes, 'two, three, four – lot of dollars!"

"And then you'll tell us where the pin is?"

"Yes, Sam tell then – it is a sin – "

"Don't sing that again. Look, here's four nice dollar bills; now where's the pin?"