"Well, we are going to see the man who has it," Chris explained, coolly. "I have his address in Moreton Wells at the present moment, and for the rest he is called the Rev. James Merritt. Between ourselves he is no more a reverend than you are."
"And if the gentleman is shy or refuses to see us?"
"Then he will be arrested on a charge of theft."
"My dear young lady, before you can get a warrant for that kind of thing you have to prove the theft, you have to swear an information to the effect that you believe the property is in the possession of the thief, and that is not easy."
"There is nothing easier. I am prepared to swear that cheerfully."
"That you actually know that the property is in the possession of the thief?"
"Certainly I do. I saw him put it in his pocket."
Bell looked at the speaker with blank surprise. If such was the fact, then Chris's present statement was exactly opposed to all that she had said before. She sat opposite to Bell, with a little gleam of mischief in her lovely eyes.
"You saw that man steal the Rembrandt?" Bell gasped.
"Certainly not. But I did see him steal my big diamond star and put it in his pocket. And I can swear an information on that."