“Only,” Ruth answered, “that the Countess Bertouche is not here this evening.”
Both realized that the first card in the game had been played.
CHAPTER XXIII—BROUGHT TO BAY
One other person had noticed, with even greater interest than had Ruth and Bab, that the Countess Bertouche had failed to appear at the ball. That person was the jewel thief, Harry Townsend. He was filled with a silent rage. How dared she fail him this night of all others?
All the fellow’s plans were carefully laid. The woman with the jewels he coveted sat in the ballroom; large and slow witted, she would not be quick either to discover her loss or to raise an alarm. And Harry Townsend was on friendly terms with her. Once she decided to leave the brightly lighted halls for the darkness of the grounds outside, lifting the tiara would be an easy matter. But Townsend never kept the jewels he stole in his possession ten minutes after their theft. How was he to get rid of them to-night?
It was after midnight. Many of the guests had withdrawn to the veranda; the lawns were filled with people walking about. Now Harry Townsend stood back of a row of lights that cast a deep shadow. He was talking to some acquaintances. The women were elegantly gowned, and one of them wore a beautiful diamond tiara.
Bab was standing alone in the door of the girls’ dressing-room. Miss Sallie had called her in, after supper, to smooth her hair. The other girls had been with her, but they had returned to join the dancers. Bab was resting and thinking. Mollie and Grace knew nothing of what she and Ruth had on their minds. The younger girls knew that Harry Townsend and the Countess Bertouche were suspected as thieves, but they did not know that the detectives were on the alert, and that the arrest might come to-night.
Barbara was wondering if she ought to tell Gladys Le Baron what she knew. After all, Gladys was her cousin; and, as she had told Ralph, the other day, Bab felt that there ought to be a certain loyalty among people of the same blood, even when they were not fond of one another.
To-night Gladys Le Baron had been more conspicuous with Harry Townsend than ever before. Not only was she seen with him constantly, but she wore an air of conscious pride, as if to say, “See what a prize I have won!”
Gladys had passed Bab two or three times during the evening, but had pretended not to see her. Now she was coming in at the dressing-room door.