Doctor Vardaman, gripping the arms of his chair hard, stared at the detective transfixed. If the various revelations which had visited the old gentleman during the last moment had assumed the concrete, tangible form of so many successive clubbings, he could not have been more stunned. And in the ensuing short silence, Teddy's voice could be heard upstairs mournfully requesting more ice-water for God's sake.
"Got himself good and tanked, didn't he?" said the detective, grinning.
"Mr. Grimm," said the doctor, with difficulty, "I have reason to believe that my young friend has been drugged. I think Huddesley found something among some few medicines I keep—it was a preparation of chloroform—and put it in his wine. I happened to examine the bottle, and it had been filled up with water. And the young man's glass smelled perceptibly of the stuff—I was at a loss to account for it—why Huddesley should want to drug him, I mean, but I—I am beginning to understand. And—wait a minute!" he interposed as both of the others opened their mouths on a question. "In one of the plays which they were to perform, there is a question of some diamonds being stolen—the plot turns on that episode, in fact. Jewels were loaned for the young people to use—very costly ones. I am told Mrs. Pallinder's necklace alone is valued at——"
"Told you so!" shouted Judd, starting to his feet. Grimm quieted him with a gesture. "Well?" he said.
"Teddy's part—the part Huddesley contrived to get himself substituted in, was that of a butler who steals the diamonds——"
"Well, WELL?"
"Well, sir, he would have them on his person, in his possession, at his mercy, for the last two acts, the better part of an hour——"
"And he ain't back yet!" screeched Mr. William O. Grimm. He made a frantic gesture. "Have they got a telephone? Where's your telephone?"
"I have none," said the doctor, feeling as if he were confessing to arson. "The nearest is the drug-store corner of——"
Mr. Grimm uttered an oath direct and brilliant as a lightning-stroke. Then he commanded himself with an effort. "Judd!" he bawled, making for the door, and even in headlong flight, discharged a shaft of melancholy satire: "No telephone! Say, Doc., it's a good ways to Broadway, ain't it?" said he, and waved a farewell. "So long! Many thanks! See you later!" He flashed forth from the house, his retainer at his heels. The doctor saw their tumultuous passage down the walk, saw them scramble, clamber, struggle into the waiting hack, saw it hurl upon its way with vociferations—and silence fell like a blow. There stood Doctor Vardaman and the policeman staring at each other in the empty porch.