“When did you miss it?” asked Thaddeus.
“Not until I came to set the table for lunch.”
“Was it in its proper place at breakfast-time?”
“I didn’t notice, sir. The breakfast dishes were all there, but I don’t remember seeing the other plates. I didn’t think to look.”
“Then it wasn’t a cat,” said Bessie, sinking back into her chair; “we have been robbed.”
“Well, it’s the first time on record, I guess, that thieves have ever robbed a man of his china,” said Thaddeus, calmly. “Have you looked for the plates?” he added, addressing the waitress.
“No, sir,” she replied, simply. “Where could I look?”
“That’s so—where?” said Bessie. “There isn’t much use looking for dishes when they disappear like that. They aren’t like whisk-brooms or button-hooks to be mislaid easily. We have been robbed; that’s all there is about that.”
“Oh, well,” said Thaddeus, “let’s eat lunch, and see about it afterwards.”
This was quite easy to say, but to eat under the circumstances was too much for either of the young householders. The luncheon left the table practically untouched; and when it was over Thaddeus called his man into the house, wrote a note to the police-station, asking for an officer in citizen’s clothes at once, and despatched it by him, with the injunction to let very little grass grow under his feet on the way down to headquarters. He then summoned the waitress into the library.