“Next?” questioned Dick, with a tantalizing smile.
“Her maid—” began Hardy, then checked himself. “Look here, sir; this is absolutely private, it must not get into the papers until I say so.”
“Sure; I’ll keep absolutely mum.”
“I’ve made myself solid with Suzanne, Miss Trevor’s maid. Nothing like using a little tact in that direction, sir,” chuckled Hardy. “Anyway, she told me that a handsome, strong (mind you, strong) hat-pin that was given to Miss Beatrice by Miss Macallister is missing. Wait a moment,” as Dick opened his lips to speak. “Suzanne says Miss Beatrice wore it that afternoon, and when she came in went into the private office and took off her hat there, later, carrying it up to her room, but she didn’t have the hat-pin with her, because Suzanne asked her where it was when she put her coat and hat away. Miss Beatrice made no reply, and shortly after went downstairs to dinner. Suzanne never saw the hat-pin again. She remembers it distinctly because of the curious design of the gold about the cat’s-eye in the top.”
“See here, Hardy, that’s not much to go on. You haven’t found the weapon remember, and therefore cannot prove it belonged to Miss Beatrice. Secondly, Mrs. Trevor was found locked in the safe, not on the floor.”
“Quite true, sir. But you must recollect that Mrs. Trevor was a small, slender woman. I don’t believe she weighed over one hundred and twenty-five pounds.”
“I know; but a relaxed body is a mighty heavy, unwieldy thing to lift.”
“Miss Trevor is tall and strong,” said Hardy, dryly. “She is a fine tennis player, a good fencer, and is also a magnificent cross-country rider. It wouldn’t be much exertion for her to get Mrs. Trevor into the safe, which was a short distance away.”
Dick shook his head. “I can’t agree with you, Hardy.”
The detective leaned toward Dick and raised his hand impressively.