“And it was you, a week ago, whom Miss Lydecker saw?”
“Yes.” Jarge put a hand into his waistcoat pocket, and brought out the brooch. “I haven’t much use for this, now,” he said. “I have carried it about with me because I didn’t care to trust it to any one else, and I believed detection was next to impossible.”
The chief of police took it, and handed it to Mr. Lydecker.
“I guess that is all,” Jarge said, his hands falling limply into his lap. “And I’m glad it is over.”
Metcalfe, the juvenile man, who had been a silent witness to the whole affair, suddenly stepped forward.
“Perhaps you’ve wondered why I was so upset the night you put Delmar’s photograph in that ‘prop’ frame. Well, I suppose it was foolish of me at the time. But it happened that on the very day Delmar was assaulted, and probably just before you came, Klein, I visited Delmar in his room, and we had an unpleasant argument. Delmar was for throwing me out. We talked rather loud in the hall, and I noticed that a number of the roomers were taking some interest. Then, when I read the next morning that Delmar had been found unconscious, I—I instantly recalled our words, and fancied suspicion would fall upon me. That explains my actions.”
“I was puzzled at first,” Klein told him, “when both you and Tanner acted so suspiciously. And it was not until I had the case well unearthed that I realized you could have had no vital concern in the matter. Now, of course, your explanation clears everything.”
Mr. Lydecker offered the use of his automobile to the chief, and it was readily accepted. The two detectives, with Jarge between them, left the room. As the chief followed he turned to Klein.
“You’ll be the important witness in this case, Mr. Klein. I suppose Mr. Lydecker will vouch for your appearance?”
“Willingly, sir,” answered Lydecker.