“Because the villain threw away the key in the fields.”
“He couldn’t have done that.”
The constable caught his breath.
“But he did. I saw him.”
“And I saw him unlock them at breakfast. The key was on the end of his watch chain. He hasn’t thrown that away.”
She made a move to take out his watch chain but Yates stopped her.
“Don’t touch him. I’m playing a lone hand here.” He jerked out the chain, and the real key dangled from it.
“Well, Stoliker,” he said, “I don’t know which to admire most—your cleverness and pluck, my stupidity, or Miss Bartlett’s acuteness of observation. Can we get into the barn, Kitty?”
“Yes; but you mustn’t hurt him.”
“No fear. I think too much of him. Don’t you come in. I’ll be out in a moment, like the medium from a spiritualistic dark cabinet.”