“Yes, put there by Whiting of course, after he stole them from Webb that night. A perfect hiding-place!”
“Where is Kimball?”
“That’s the point of the whole thing. As I reconstruct it all, Whiting sneaked into the room that night soon after Webb went to bed, chloroformed him, and then dragged or carried or shoved him through into the next house. He must have taken his clothes along and put them on the unconscious man. You see, he had that brute of a man with the gold teeth, his own man, to help him.”
“How do you know?” Allison’s eyes gleamed with interest.
“I don’t know, but it must have been that way. Then, he and his precious helper, managed somehow to get Webb away and carried him off, doubtless in Whiting’s own car, to some place of concealment where he still is.”
“And stole the diamonds too!”
“Yes; and has since stolen Elsie too,—and, worst of all, has now disappeared himself!”
“Whiting stolen?” Allison’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“No; he is the thief, not a victim. He has those two people hidden and he has now hidden himself.”
“Why? What for?” Mrs. Powell was unable to comprehend.