e is
now appearing," said he, suddenly, to the maid.

"Oh, yes, sir; beautiful. And real ones, too."

Ashton-Kirk smiled.

"And the more real they are, the more reason why she shouldn't permit
them to lie about like that," said he, pointing to a stand, upon which
rested a handsome jewel case. "And more especially when I see a
scaffolding just outside the window which would make entrance for a
thief rather easy."

"It's perfectly all right," she said; "there's no danger, sir." She
opened the jewel case, showing it to be empty. "Miss Cavanaugh has put
all her jewels in a bank vault."

"That must have been recently," said the investigator, his brows a
trifle raised.

"Only yesterday. She made up her mind about it very suddenly."

A look which Bat Scanlon could not interpret shot across Ashton-Kirk's
face; a tune was upon his lips as he prowled, hands deep in his trousers
pockets, up and down the room, his keen eyes missing nothing. At length
he paused and looked at the maid once more.

"I have always admired the manner in which Miss Cavanaugh has her hair
arranged," said he. "Do you do that?"

"Usually, sir," said the maid. "But," with a little shadow upon her
face, "I don't think _she_ cares for my work, sir. She has refused to
have me touch her hair for the last few mornings."

"Too bad," said the investigator. "Too bad!"

Once more he began walking about the room. At a window he halted and
looked out; the scaffolding erected by the workmen, who had apparently
been engaged in "pointing" the wall, ran sheer to the roof. Scanlon went
to the investigator's side, and also looked out.

"Quite a job to hang one of these things," said the big man. "As few
materials as you can do with, and all the strength you can get."

Ashton-Kirk, without a word of warning, climbed out upon the foot-planks
under the window and then to Scanlon's amazement, he dropped upon his
knees.

"Evening prayer or something, I suppose," said the big trainer. "But why
the hurry? It's some hours till sundown."

The investigator picked at some particles of mortar adhering to the
planks with the blade of a knife.

"The idea of cements and mortars always fascinated me," said he; "their
cold persistency, their determination to outdo nature, their ability to
join things foreign to each other, is admirable. There is quite a
literature on the subject, and many men have given a great deal of study
to the improvement of these most necessary agen