“It wasn’t quite that. He said it was a memorial of lying and cheating.”
“It seems an unpleasant sort of thing altogether. We’d better get it off our hands, I think. What are you going to do with it now?”
“Take it up to the house again. But that reminds me, you’re still under the law of ‘No Questions.’ Everything shall be cleared up to your satisfaction in a very short time, if you’ll only wait.”
He wrapped the armlet carefully in his handkerchief and dropped it into his pocket, taking care to touch it as little as he could. The wrist-watch and paper-knife he put into his breast-pocket with less precaution.
“Now for the next act!”
“Wait a moment,” pleaded Eileen. “Just one question. Why did Mr. Dangerfield put out the real Talisman this morning?”
Westenhanger had his answer ready.
“What happened? The thief got a nasty jar. I expect that was what he intended to do. He may have been on the look-out as well as ourselves.”
They made their way up to the house. On the road they met Eric Dangerfield walking slowly.
“Seen Mrs. Caistor Scorton?” asked Westenhanger, casually. “She was just in front of us.”