"Impossible!" he gasped; and then felt involuntarily for his cuff-buttons. "Jewelry-shop job! You mean Huddesley's a thief!"
"Put it there," said the detective, nodding encouragingly.
"Good Lord! Why—I—I can't believe it. He's been in my house for over two months, and I've never missed a thing!"
"I guess you didn't have nothing worth while," said Grimm, casting the glance of a connoisseur about him. "He thought it was a good place to hide, or else he was fixing to bring off some other job."
"That's what!" said Judd briefly.
"I—I—it don't seem as if it could be! Don't you think there's some mistake?"
"Not likely," said Judd, without emotion. "I spotted him that time I come up here peddlin' collar-buttons—t'ain't more'n two weeks ago—an' I'll bet anything he spotted me, too. He's pretty fly, that fellow."
Mr. Grimm produced a bundle of papers from the inside pocket of his coat, fished out a bit of pasteboard and held it before the doctor's eyes. "That him?" he queried.
Doctor Vardaman surveyed it a while in silence. "I'm afraid so," he said at last, with a sigh. "This is clean-shaven, and Huddesley wears mutton chop side-whiskers, but it's the same face, undoubtedly."
The detective nodded with a satisfied air, and returned the photograph to its place. He repeated his former question. "Did you say he'd gone out? Was it to this party to-night? How'd that happen?"