"Was mere bunk," he answered. "I'm glad it was convincing, though, for I was trying to fool a very clever devil."
He fished around in his pocket and drew out the ring. I could see it gleam in the light of the street lamps as we sped toward the park.
"Strange. I had an idea that there was a secret panel or something of the sort where he could hide such things as he needed, for I could figure no other reason for his coming to that house, and that is what I was hunting for when you so opportunely caught your cuff-link in that Persian cover. This ring must have been tangled in the fringe and when I yanked the cover I dislodged the ring. That was a stroke of pure luck, and it changes the whole course of the inquiry. Word from Chicago would have told me something, but not as much as this band of gold does. Take a good look at it and tell me whose it is."
He took out his flash and played it over the ring while I looked at it. Then I turned away, feeling sick at heart. The ring was a heavy gold signet with a deep-cut monogram, and it was a ring I knew only too well, since I had bought it myself at Ruth's request that she might give it to her brother on his birthday. That was three years ago, and what a very happy time it had been and how pleased Dick had seemed to receive the ring, for he always made a fuss over Ruth. I remember that he swore to wear it always as he slipped it on his finger, and now here it was cropping up to bring more misery to the girl I wanted most to shield from all harm and sorrow.
"Well?" McKelvie's voice broke the thread of my thought.
"It's Dick Trenton's," I said low. "And now shall I drive you home?"
"Home? I should say not!" he almost shouted. "We're going to get some dinner and then we're off to Water Street. The trail's too hot to turn aside now."