“Empty can?” Mason asked.
Mrs. Gentrie said indulgently, “That’s just a household mystery. You mustn’t mind Rebecca. She’s always digging up little household mysteries.”
“ I’m interested in mysteries,” Mason said, his eyes twinkling. “I collect mysteries the way your sister-in-law collects crossword puzzles.”
“Well,” Rebecca said, “I wish you’d solve this one, Mr. Mason. I just can’t get it off my mind.”
“Rebecca!” Mrs. Gentrie rebuked.
“No, go ahead. I’d like to hear it,” Mason said. “I really would.”
Mrs. Gentrie, evidently quite embarrassed, said, “It was nothing, Mr. Mason. I went down in the cellar yesterday to check over the tins and jars of preserved fruit, I found an empty tin on the shelf.”
“Just an empty tin?” Mason asked.
“Yes.”
“No. That isn’t all of it,” Rebecca interpolated. “It was an absolutely brand new tin, Mr. Mason. It had been put up on that shelf with the preserves. There wasn’t any label on that tin, and it had been sealed up — you know, crimped over, the way you seal preserves in a can.”