"No, I don't remember. I was busy taking out some stitches in my fancy-work at the time,—something that had gone wrong,—and I didn't particularly notice what she said. But I'm almost sure she didn't mention that one."
"She might very easily have concealed it under her work and walked off with it," he went on. "Of course, I don't say she did, but she might have, had she been so inclined. Now, how about Chester Jackson?"
"Oh, he couldn't possibly have taken a thing without my knowing it. He just leaned over the table and looked at them all and giggled and laughed over their names and said they were 'bully good stuff.' I saw him practically every minute of the time, except for two seconds when I ran into my room for another spool of thread. And he left without a thing in his hands that he could have hidden it in or under."
"The 'two seconds' you were out of the room might have been sufficient for him," commented Captain Meade. "So he isn't eliminated, either. But I rather suspect him less than any of the others. How about Peter?"
"He's the one, I haven't a doubt. I always did suspect him of being up to something. Of course he took it, Daddy! He went and set his tray right down on top of the whole lot of them, when he came in, in what I thought was the stupidest fashion, and I made him take it right up while I cleared them all aside. I believe he could have slipped the sketch under his tray and kept it out of my sight and got away with it without the slightest trouble. Can't you see it, Daddy?" cried Patricia, eagerly. Captain Meade looked only half convinced.
"Do you happen to remember whether that particular sketch was uppermost when he came in?"
"No, I don't honestly remember. But I know that the Purple Dart was uppermost when I moved them out of his way. It just happened to catch my eye in passing."
"Well, that proves nothing, of course. But the question now is, what in the world are we going to do about it? I dare not do any telephoning at this time of night (or rather, morning, for it's three o'clock!) or even go out, without exciting suspicion. And that's the last thing I want to attract to myself. Better have it appear that I care nothing about the sketch than to raise a breeze about its disappearance. I had thought that perhaps you might find out from your friend the Belgian girl whether by any chance it had slipped in with her own by mistake. But that must be done later and done with the greatest caution or the fat will be in the fire. And it's too late to order anything brought to the room, or I might have a chance to interview our waiter and bell-boy. Nothing for it, I guess, but to go to bed and get what sleep we can. It's been a bad day's work, honey, but don't blame yourself for a single thing. It's only one of those unpleasant combinations of fortune that will happen, plan as we may. And don't worry. That never did any good yet. Go to sleep and trust that everything's going to come out all right!"
In spite of which injunction, however, no sleep visited the unhappy Patricia for the remainder of the night.