"Not one."
"What was the house like?"
"Fairly nice; old-fashioned, but not antique at all. Decent furnishings, but no taste, and nothing of real value. Commonplace, all through."
"The hardest kind of a house to trace!"
"Yes, there was nothing distinctive at all."
"No people in it?"
"Not that I know of. I heard no sound. Flossie took me into a little sitting room to undress, not a bedroom. Everything was clean, but ordinary. Of course, I'd know the room if I saw it again, but I've no glimmering of an idea where it was."
"Strangest case I ever heard of!" mused Mr. Chapin. "I think the pin has some especial value. Maybe it is of gold, inside."
"Nonsense!" said Lucille, scornfully, "that amount of gold wouldn't be worth anything! I'm inclined to the radium theory, though I don't know a thing about the stuff."
"Well, I'm going to hide this pin, right now," said Iris, "and I want you all to see where I put it. I'm afraid to put it in the bank or in Mr. Chapin's safe, for those people would get it somehow. But here are only Mr. Chapin and Mr. Hughes and Miss Darrel and myself. We are all trustworthy, and I'll hide it. Then, I shall devote my life to the solving of the mystery of the pin and Aunt Ursula's death—for, I think they are very closely connected."