where--where's _my_ hat?"

"I'll tell you." Staff crossed the room and picked up the string and
label which had been on the box. Returning, he examined the tag and
read aloud: "Miss Eleanor Searle." He handed the tag to Alison. "Find
Miss Searle and you'll find your hat. It happens that she had a bandbox
the exact duplicate of yours. I remember telling you about it, on the
steamer. As a matter of fact, she was in the shop the afternoon you
ordered your hat sent to me, though she steadily refused to tell me who
was responsible for that imposition. Now, on the pier today, our luggage
was placed side by side, hers with mine--both in the S section, you
understand. My examination was finished first and I was taken back to my
stateroom to be searched, as you know. While I was gone, her examination
was evidently finished, for when I came back she had left the pier with
all her things. Quite plainly she must have taken your box by mistake
for her own; this, of course, is her hat. As I said at first, find Miss
Searle and you'll find your hat and necklace. Also, find the person to
whom you confided this gay young swindling scheme of yours, and you'll
find the man who was intimate enough with the affair to come to my rooms
in my absence and go direct to the bandbox for the necklace."

"I--but I told nobody," she stammered.

By the look in her eyes he disbelieved her.

"Not even Max, this morning, before he offered that reward?" he asked
shrewdly.

"Well--yes; I told him."

"Max may have confided it to somebody else: these things spread. Or
possibly Jane may have blabbed."

"Oh, no," she protested, but without conviction in her accents; "neither
of them would be so foolish...."

"I'd find out, if I were you."

"I shall. Meanwhile--this Miss Searle--where's she stopping?"

"I can't tell you--some hotel. It'll be easy enough to find her in the
morning."

"Will you try?"

"Assuredly--the first thing."

"Then--there appears to be nothing else to do but go home," said the
woman in a curiously subdued manner.

Without replying verbally, Staff took up her chiffon wrap and draped it
over her shoulders.

"Thank you," said she, moving toward the door. "Good night."

"Oh," he protested politely, "I must see you out."

"It's not necessary--I can find my way."

"But only I know how to fix the front door."

At the foot of the stairs, while he fumbled with the latch, doubting
him, she spoke with some little hesitation.