"All ready, Chick!"
The whole party had by this time gone into Mrs. Pond's sitting-room.
Nick said hush, and pointed to the ventilator. Most of the party could see it through the door.
Instantly there appeared a mass of green feathers, and then Horace Richmond's parrot fluttered noiselessly down into the room.
For a minute or two it ran around the floor. Then it flew up on to the dressing-table, seized a small gold bar pin in its beak, and flew back into the ventilator pipe.
"A nice trick," said the detective. "I believe it took you some time to teach the bird that."
"About a year," growled Horace. "The bird was well trained before."
"Is it all clear?" said Nick.
"Perfectly," said the colonel. "But how did you get at it?"
"Simply enough. There was only one way into this room when those robberies were committed, and the parrot was the only living thing in the house that was small enough to go through that pipe and intelligent enough to do the trick.