"Oh, don't misunderstand me, Colonel Ashley. I am not at all dissatisfied," and Mr. Grafton held up a protesting hand. "The truth is, I'll not need your services in helping me to recover the diamond cross for Mrs. Larch—or Miss Ratchford, as she calls herself since the separation. You can drop that case, Colonel."
"Drop it?"
"Yes, the diamond cross has been recovered. I just had a letter from
Cyn—from Miss Ratchford, saying she has the cross."
"She has the missing diamond cross?" fairly cried the detective.
"Yes."
"Where did she get it. Could Spotty—" The colonel whispered the last name to himself and then stopped short.
"I don't know. I just had a telegram from her, and I am going to see her now to learn the particulars," went on Aaron Grafton. "She is in Pompey, you know—where she used to live as a girl, and where I— Well, I'm going to see her. I came to tell you the diamond cross mystery is solved and if you will let me know what I owe you I'll send you a check."
"Oh, that part will be all right, Mr. Grafton. But I don't understand."
"Nor do I," flung back Aaron Grafton over his shoulder, as he left the colonel's room, rather hastily. "I'll tell you as soon as I've seen Miss Ratchford. Good-bye!" and he was gone.
For a moment the colonel remained motionless in the middle of the room.
Then a queer look came over his face as he murmured: