"Herbert was caught with the goods on," declared the detective, and he thumped the desk with his lusty fist. "We've got the right man."
"Yes," admitted The Thinking Machine, "it begins to look very much as if you did have the right man—for once."
Detective Mallory snorted.
"Would you mind telling me if any of the jewelry you found in Mr. Herbert's possession has been identified?"
"Sure thing," replied the detective. "That's where I've got Herbert good. Four people who lost jewelry at the masked ball have appeared and claimed pieces of the stuff."
For an instant a slightly perplexed wrinkle appeared in the brow of The Thinking Machine, and as quickly it passed.
"Of course, of course," he mused.
"It's the biggest haul of stolen goods the police of this city have made for many years," the detective volunteered complacently. "And, if I'm not wrong, there's more of it coming—no man knows how much more. Why, Herbert must have been operating for years, and he got away with it, of course, by the gentlemanly exterior, the polish, and all that. I consider his capture the most important that has happened since I have been connected with the police."
"Indeed?" inquired the scientist thoughtfully. He was still gazing at the cushion.
"And the most important development of all is to come," Detective Mallory rattled on. "That will be the real sensation, and make the arrest of Herbert seem purely incidental. It now looks as if there would be another arrest of a—of a person who is so high socially, and all that——"