he sole
decision arrived at, and agreed to by all, was to keep the affair among
ourselves for the present. This could be managed if none but private
detectives were employed and the police not brought into the case. When
the meeting broke up and I was able to question Mr. Smith, I was
disappointed in him. I had hoped and expected (having led up to it by
hints) that he would say: "Sir James Courtenaye is in this." On the
contrary, he tactlessly advised me to "put that idea out of my head.
There was nothing in it." (I hope he meant the idea, not the head!)

"I should say, speaking in the air," he remarked, "that the caretakers
are the guilty parties, or at least have had some hand in the business.
Though of course I might change my mind if I were on the spot."

I assured him fiercely that any one possessed of a mind at all would
change it at sight of dear old Barl and Barley. Nothing on earth would
make me believe anything against them. Why, if they didn't have
Almost-Haloes and Wings, Sir James and the insurance people would have
objected to them as guardians. The very fact that they had been kept on
without a word of protest from any one, when Courtenaye Abbey was let to
Sir James was, I argued, the best of testimonials to the Barlows'
character. Nevertheless, my orders were that Mr. Smith should go to
Devonshire and take a room at the Courtenaye Arms, dressed and painted
to represent a landscape artist. "The Abbey is to be opened to the
public in a few days, in spite of the best small show-things being
lost," I reminded him, from what we had heard Sir Jim say. "You can see
the Barlows, and judge of them. But what is _much_ more important,
you'll also see Sir James Courtenaye, who lodges in the inn, and can
judge of _him_. In my opinion he has revenged himself for losing his
suit to grab the Abbey and everything in it, by taking what he could lay
his hands on without being suspected."

"But you do suspect him?" said Mr. Smith.

"For that matter, so does he suspect me," I retorted.

"You _think_ so," the detective amended.

"Don't you?"

"No, Princess, I do not."

"What _do_ you think, then? Or don't you think _anything_?"

"I do think something." He tried to justify his earning capacity.

"What, if I may ask?"

He--a Smith, a mere Smith!--dared to grin.

"Of course you may ask, Princess," he replied. "But it's too early yet
for me to answer your question in fairness to myself. About the theft I
have not f