"It would have to be a very large diamond to bring in fifty thousand pounds," said Striver, seriously. "No, I believe that the eye is simply a clue to this treasure."
"Treasure?"
"Well, money, jewels, gold, bank-notes, what not. All I know is that my aunt certainly mentioned fifty thousand pounds to my father."
"Why didn't she secure the treasure herself?"
"Perhaps she did and has buried it somewhere. Well, never mind," he turned over the papers again, "come what may, I must find the eye."
"You won't find it there," I said, rising to take my leave, and with one eye on Miss Monk's photograph. "Better get the police to trace the white-cloaked lady, since you believe she has taken it."
"I don't see who else could have committed the murder and have stolen the glass eye," said Striver decisively. "In one way or another, she must be found, somehow."
"And then----?"
"Then she must deliver up the glass eye."
"And be hanged."