“Yes, indeed. It was my diamond necklace that was the most valuable thing taken. I must admit that I was very careless about it that night. Instead of putting it away, as usual, I merely dropped it into my jewel box. In the morning it was gone. Don’t you think, Mr. Carter, that it is remarkable how a burglar could get into the house, and go through the rooms as that one did, without leaving a trace of any sort behind him?”
“It does seem so; yes.”
“There wasn’t a trace. Not one; anywhere.”
“Was no one in the house suspected?” asked Nick quietly.
“No one in the——Oh, you mean one of the servants, of course. No; really. The staff of servants that we have in this house are, all of them, old retainers; every one of them has been a long time with us. You know this is the one place which we really call home. We always speak of ‘coming home,’ when we come here. Oh, no, indeed, we could not suspect one of the servants.”
“What is your opinion on the subject, Mr. Dinwiddie?” asked the detective, turning fairly toward Duryea.
The latter smiled, showing his white and even teeth; he twirled his mustache for a moment before he replied, and when he did so it was with deliberation.
“Really,” he said, “you know I am not an authority, Mr. Carter—such as yourself, for example. Still—er—I think I have an opinion, nevertheless. We are all apt to form opinions in such cases, don’t you think, Mr. Carter?”
“Yes. What is yours? You interest me.”
“Do I? Really! You confess yourself to be the great and only Nick Carter, and then do me the honor to care for my opinion!”