“How did you come by this?” he cried, pointing to the silver ornament.
“I’ll tell you presently, sir. Do you recognize it?”
“I gave it to Miss Rowan myself.”
“Then we are on the right track,” I cried, joyfully. “Go on, Mr. Sharpe.”
“Yes, gentlemen, we are certainly on the right track; but after all, it isn’t my fault if the track don’t lead exactly where you wish. You see, when I heard of this mysterious disappearance of the lady, I began to concoct my own theory. I said to myself, when a young and beautiful—”
“Confound your theories!” cried Carriston fiercely. “Go on with your tale.”
The man gave his interrupter a spiteful glance. “Well, sir,” he said, “as you gave me strict instructions to watch a certain gentleman closely, I obeyed those instructions, of course, although I knew I was on a fool’s errand.”
“Will you go on?” cried Carriston. “If you know where Miss Rowan is, say so; your money will be paid you the moment I find her.”
“I don’t say I exactly know where to find the lady, but I can soon know if you wish me to.”
“Tell your tale your own way, but as shortly as possible,” I said, seeing that my excitable friend was preparing for another outburst.