"Us—Cora," said Jack bluntly.
"Look here," began Ed fiercely; "if it wasn't you who said that—say—look here—Oh, what nonsense! I hope, Cora, that you haven't for one moment thought that I would have the least suspicion against you."
"I—er—I—of course I didn't," she finished quickly. "Only Jack thought it looked queer."
"How foolish!" exclaimed Ed. "Why, it would be the easiest thing in the world for the thief to throw the empty pocketbook into your tool-box as the car was passing him in the street. The box isn't kept locked, is it?"
"No; not always."
"Then that's how it happened. The thief is around Chelton—that's evident. In order to divert suspicion he—"
"Or she," interrupted Jack with a smile.
"Yes, or she, if you like—he or she opened the box when your car was halted momentarily in the street, and dropped the wallet in. It's as simple as can be."
"But not so simple to find the thief," retorted Jack.
"Indeed not," agreed Ed with a rueful smile. "But I'll give the police this clue. It's a good one, I should think."