The Mitchels did not keep their promise to go to the White Mountains, but on the contrary prolonged their western travel, so that it was November before they were at home again, and temporarily quartered at the Fifth Avenue. A few days after, Mr. Barnes sent up his card, and as usual, was cordially received.
"Any news of my wife's ruby?" asked Mr. Mitchel, grasping the detective warmly by the hand.
"No, Mr. Mitchel. I am sorry to say that I am utterly unable to prove any of my theories about that. But I have come to a set determination, and one that to you may seem a peculiar one. I have come to ask your assistance in the murder case."
"Why, certainly, I will help you. Did I not tell you so at the very outset? Have I not always been willing to talk freely to you?"
"You have, but as long as I thought that you yourself might have committed the crime, how could I come to you to ask you to assist me?"
"Then I am to understand that at present you do not suspect me?"
"I have come to that conclusion at last, and wish now that I had done so sooner."
"Would you mind telling me why you have altered your mind? You have told me so much that seemed to implicate me, that I am curious to hear the other side."
"Certainly. I overheard your wager. Then came the robbery, and then the murder. Later there was a second jewel robbery; all of these crimes occurred within the limit which you set. One of them of course you committed. It seems more probable that you stole the single ruby, for in doing that you committed a crime for which you could not be punished, especially since you have married the lady. Even before, she would willingly have testified that it was understood between you, and that it was simply a trick to win a wager. Is not that correct logic?"