"Hughes said it was unsafe," Chapin remarked. "He said you didn't remember to pull down the shades in this room when you hid the pin, Iris."
"No, I didn't, but who could get in? The windows are barred——"
"But the door to the living room was open, and we were all in the dining room—anyone could have come in at the front door and walked in here——"
"Very silently, then, or we could have heard footsteps from the dining room."
"But it must have been done that way. Someone looking in at these windows saw you put the pin in the chair, and a few moments later, watching his chance, sneaked in and stole it."
"Then it was Pollock, or some messenger of his. But what can he want of it?"
"The whole thing is too mysterious!" exclaimed Lucille. "Let's send for a city detective at once."
"But," objected Iris, "what could he do?"
"Do? He could do everything! Find the murderer, find the jewels, find the pin——"
"Good gracious!" cried Iris. "I don't want the pin! In fact, I'm glad it's gone. Now, they won't be kidnapping me to get it! But I'm going to find the jewels. And I'm going to start on a new tack. I'm no good at solving mysteries, but I can investigate. I'm going to Chicago——"