"It's a hard knot," he said, going toward the door; "a very hard knot. But we will untie it, Miss Wardour, and then you will understand all these things. Now tell me, where is your detective going next?"
"I do not know."
"You must find out," imperatively.
"I think I can."
"And come to me in the garden."
"Very well," looking out once more. "Your way is clear, sir; go straight to the kitchen entrance."
He passed out, and went his way, swiftly, quietly, and unobserved; and Constance returned to Mr. Belknap, and the completion of her jewel list.
"The combat deepens," mused the tramp detective, as he paced slowly down the garden walk. "The plot, thickens. I come for a catfish,—I may catch a whale. Oh, what a knot; what a beautiful, delightful, horribly hard knot; and how my fingers itch to begin at it. But soft—easy; there is more to be tied in. Let us pay out the rope, and wait."