me. In a moment he started down the
hallway. He walked very fast, and I could hear him muttering to himself.
He seemed to be carrying something in front of him with both hands. It
was his keys, I suppose. Anyway I could hear it clink. At the end of
the hall he stopped, turned to the door at the left and fumbled at the
keyhole for quite a while. I could bear his keys clink again. This time,
I suppose, he had the right room, for be unlocked it and went in. I
listened for fifteen or twenty minutes. There was nothing further."

Average Jones looked at Kirby with lifted brows of inquiry. Kirby
nodded, indicating that the end room was Mrs. Hales'.

"How was the man dressed?" asked Average Jones.

"Grayish dressing-gown and bed-slippers. He was tall and had gray hair."

"Many thanks. Now, Mr. Kirby, will you take me to see Mrs. Hale?"

The young widow received them in her sitting-room. She was of the
slender, big-eyed, sensitive type of womanhood; her piquant face marred
by the evidences of sleeplessness and tears. To Average Jones she gave
her confidence at once. People usually did.

"I felt sure the advertisement would bring us help," she said wistfully.
"Now, I feel surer than ever."

"Faith helps the worst case," said the young man, smiling. "Mr. Kirby
tells me that the intruder awakened you."

"Yes; and I'm a very heavy sleeper. Still I can't say positively that
anything definite roused me; it was rather an impression of some one's
being about. I came out of my bedroom and looked around the outer room,
but there was nobody there."

"You didn't think to look for the necklace?"

"No," she said with a little gasp; "if I only had!"

"And--er--you didn't happen to hear a clinking noise, did you?"

"No."

"After he'd got into the room he'd put the key up, wouldn't he?"
suggested Kirby.

"You're assuming that he had a key."

"Of course he had a key. The guest across the ball saw him trying it on
the other doors and heard it clink against the lock."

"If he had a key to this room why did he try it on several other doors
first?" propounded Average Jones. "As for the clinking noise, in which
I'm a good deal interested--may I look at your key, Mrs. Hale?"

She handed it to him. He tried it on the lock, outside, jabbing at the
metal setting. The resultant sound was dull and wooden. "Not much of the
clink which our friend describes as having heard, is it?" he remarked.

"Then how could he get into my room?" cried