"Oh, well, I mean there are only a few lengths. The pins that girl took from Iris to-day are just the same as this one, aren't they?"
"About," said Iris; "of course, pins differ, but the ones we use are generally of nearly the same length. But I'm sure the length or weight of this pin——"
"Weight!" exclaimed Hughes; "suppose a certain weight, goldsmith's scales, you know—would open a delicately adjusted lode on a safe——"
"You're romancing, man," and Mr. Chapin smiled, "but it does seem that the pin must have some significance. It would be just like Ursula Pell to call it a valuable pin, when it really was a valuable pin, in some such sense as a key to a hiding-place."
"But how?" repeated Lucille; "I don't see how its weight or length could be a key——"
"Nor I," agreed Hughes, "but I believe it is, all the same! I've a lot of confidence in Miss Clyde's intuition, or insight, or whatever you choose to call it. And I believe she's on the right track. I confess I can't see how, but I do think there may be some connection between this pin and the hidden jewels——"
"But what good does it do, if we can't find it?" objected Lucille.
"We will find it," declaimed Iris, her eyes shining with strong purpose, "we must find it. And if we do, we'll be indebted to these people for putting us on the right track."
"They'll probably turn up again, pin-hunting," mused Mr. Chapin.
"Let 'em!" said Iris, scornfully, "I'm not afraid of them. They're determined, Lord knows! But they're not dangerous."