“Yes,” he said, as she paused.
“I used them.”
“Judith!” Richards sprang forward with an imploring gesture, but for once his wife ignored him.
“I used them,” she reiterated, “to remove a locket from Austin’s watch chain when I found him lying dead in this library. That locket,” she paused to take the smelling salts which Maud who had hurriedly entered a second before handed to her,—“that locket Polly Davis stole from my bedroom last night with other jewelry.”
No one spoke, and Judith, resting one hand on Anna’s shoulder and the other on Maud’s arm, rose stiffly to her feet.
“Late this afternoon,” Judith continued, “I was examining Father’s safe,”—Hale started violently—“when some one stole behind me, blindfolded me, disconnected my earphone, and gagged me.”
“Well, well, go on,” urged Detective Ferguson, forgetting, in his interest, his usual respectful manner.
“I was gagged,” repeated Judith, “with my fan. The thief did not know that this fan”—she raised it as she spoke—“is an ear trumpet which when pressed against my teeth enables me to hear distinctly.”
Her right hand moved upward with a sweeping motion, and Maud, the parlor maid, was shorn of her cap and wig.
Ferguson recovered from his stupefaction in time to trip and catch the flying figure.