The Diamond Pin Part 45

In a conclave, all agreed that the message was as bewildering as the cipher itself.

Mr. Chapin could give no hint as to what was meant. Neither Iris nor Lucille Darrel could imagine what L and M stood for.

"Seems like a filing cabinet or card catalogue," suggested Stone, but Iris said her aunt had not owned such a thing.

"Well, we'll find them," Stone promised, "having this information, we'll somehow puzzle out the rest."

"Look in the dictionary or encyclopedia," put in Fibsy, who was scowling darkly in his efforts to think it out.

"You can't hide a lot of jewels in a book!" exclaimed Lucille.

"No; but there might be a paper there telling more."

However, no amount of search brought forth anything of the sort, and they all thought again.

"When were these old things hidden?" Fibsy asked suddenly.

"The receipt is dated ten years ago," said Stone, "of course that doesn't prove----"

"Where'd she live then?"

"Here," replied Iris. "But I've sometimes imagined that she took her jewels back to her old home in Maine to hide them. Hints she dropped now and then gave me that impression."

"Whereabouts in Maine?"

"In a village called Greendale."

"Her folks all live there?"

"I think her parents did----"

"What are their names? Did they begin with L or M?"

"No; both with E. They were Elmer and Emily, I think."

"Whoop! Whoop!" Fibsy sprang up in his excitement, and waved his arms triumphantly. "That's it! L and M means El and Em! Elmer and Emily!"

"Absurd!" scoffed Lucille, but Iris said, "You're right! Terence, you are right! That would be exactly like Aunt Ursula! And the jewels are buried between their two graves in the old Greendale cemetery! I dimly remember some things Auntie said, or sort of hinted at, that would just prove that very thing!"

"It sounds probable," Stone agreed, and Mr. Chapin said it was in his mind, too, that Mrs. Pell had hinted at Maine as her h.o.a.rding place, though he had partially forgotten it.

"But this is merely surmise," Stone reminded them, "and while it may be the truth, yet is it not possible that investigation will only give us further directions or more puzzles to work out?"

"It is not only possible but very probable," said Mr. Chapin. "I know my late client's character well enough to think that she made the discovery of her h.o.a.rd just as difficult as she could. It was a queer twist in her brain that impelled her to play these fantastic tricks. Moreover, I can't think she would trust that fortune in gems to the lonely and unprotected earth of a cemetery."

"That's just what she would do," Iris insisted. "And really, what could be a safer hiding-place? Who would dream of digging between two old graves unless instructed to do so? And who could know of these secret and hidden instructions?"

"That's all so, Miss Clyde," Stone agreed with her. "I think it a marvellously well chosen place of concealment, and I am inclined to think the jewels themselves are there. But it may not be so. It may be we have further to look, more ciphers to solve. But, at least we are making progress. Now, who will make a trip to Maine?"

"Not I!" and Iris shook her head. "I care for the fortune, of course, but it is nothing to me beside the freedom of Mr. Bannard. I hope, Mr.

Stone, that Charlie Young's confession of how he bruised and hurt poor Aunt Ursula proves Win's innocence and----"

"Not entirely, Miss Clyde. You see, we have his proof that Mr. Bannard left this house at half-past eleven, or just before Young arrived, but that won't satisfy the police that Mr. Bannard did not return at three o'clock or thereabouts."

"But he was on his way to New York then."

"So he says; but the courts insist on proof or testimony of a disinterested witness."

"But surely someone can be found who saw Win between the time he lunched at the inn, and the time he reached his rooms in New York."

"That's what we're hoping, but we haven't found that witness yet."

"Well, anyway," Iris pursued, "the people who saw him at the inn--at what time?"

"At about half-past twelve or so, I think."

"Well, their word proves that Win wasn't hidden here while we were at dinner, as some have suspected!"

"That's a good point, Miss Clyde! Now, if we can find a later witness----"

"But who did commit the murder?" asked Lucille. "You've put that Young out of the question, now, Lord knows I don't suspect Win Bannard, but who did do it?"

"And how did he get out?" added Fibsy, with the grim smile that often accompanied that unanswerable question.

"He must be found!" Iris exclaimed. "I told you at the outset, Mr.

Stone, that I want to avenge Aunt Ursula's death as well as find the fortune she left."

"Even if suspicion clings to Mr. Bannard?"

"He didn't do it! All the suspicion in the world can't hurt him, because it isn't true! I shall free him, if necessary, by my own efforts! Truth must prevail. But more than that I want the murderer found. I want the mystery of his exit solved. I want to know the whole truth, and after that, we'll go to dig for the treasure. If no one knows of the meaning of the cipher message but just us few, no one else can get ahead of us, and dig before we get there. Please, please, Mr. Stone, let the jewels wait, and put all your energies toward solving the greater mystery of Aunt Ursula's death."

"A strong point in favor of Mr. Bannard," Stone said, thoughtfully, "is the fact of the clues that seemed to incriminate him. If he had been a murderer, would he have left the half-smoked cigarette, so easily traced to him? Would he have gone off with a check, drawn that very day, in his pocket?"

"And the paper! He left that!" exclaimed Lucille.

"No," said Stone, "he didn't leave that. Young left that."

"How do you know?"

"Because Young was staying at a boarding-house up in Harlem, and the New York paper, still unfolded, had in it a circular of a Harlem laundry.

That's why I remarked to Terence that the man who left that came from near Bob Grady's place, which is a saloon near the laundry in question.

That paper never came from the locality where Bannard lives."

"And that proved Mr. Young's presence," Fibsy said. "Just as the cigarette proved Mr. Bannard's. Now neither of those men would have left those clues if they had murdered the lady."

"I've always heard that a murderer does do just some such thoughtless thing," remarked Chapin.

"This murderer didn't," and Fibsy shook his head. "When you goin' to tell 'em, Mr. Stone?"