“I was going to lock the front door,” said Ben, getting to his feet. “What’s the trouble anyhow, Mr. Fitzhugh?”
“Two of the ladies found things missing from their rooms—jewels,” explained Fitzhugh. “And one of the men saw a fellow sneaking down a passage.” He turned to Tom and Lanky. “I don’t know who you two are, but Ben seems to, so that’s all right. Let’s see if we can find the thief.”
Immediately everyone was busy. Some went outdoors, some hunted through the house. The Gables blazed with light; the garage and the other outbuildings were thoroughly searched. But no thief was found, and half-an-hour later the whole company met on the porch to talk over the matter.
Tom and Lanky by turns told their tale, how they had seen the three men at the cove put on cloaks and hats and how they had followed the men to the Gables. The butler, looking rather sheepish, admitted that the boys had spoken to him about the strangers and that he had not thought their story merited his attention. Then Tom said that he and Lanky had sat on the stone wall until they heard shouts in the house, and had then run in at a side door, and in the hall had seen a fellow dressed just like the three they had followed apparently making his escape. “We didn’t know Ben was anywhere near here,” he added; “and anyway we wouldn’t have recognized him in that blooming hat.”
Ben told about his finding the stranger, dressed like himself, hunting through the bureau drawer in the yellow room. The guests who had missed their jewels and the man who had seen someone stealing along a passage repeated their stories. “Well,” said Fitzhugh, when they had all finished, “you remember we couldn’t find some of the things we left in the playhouse the other day. I believe these fellows took them, and thought they could pass themselves off as some of my guests and ransack all the rooms in the house.”
“They did it,” said Marmaduke Midchester. “And they must have got away by one of the back doors while we were all here at the front.”
“Do you suppose they’ve gone back to the cove?” asked Lanky. “They might have. They didn’t know we were following them.”
“That’s an idea,” agreed Fitzhugh. He spoke to the butler, and in a few minutes the chauffeur and two other men were receiving instructions to take the car and drive to the cove, look for the men, and if they were not to be found there to drive on to Barmouth and report the thefts to the police.
“And now, my friends,” Fitzhugh added to his guests, “let us have dinner. Master Ben’s two pals must need sustenance after their long tramp. Come, the soup will be getting cold.”
They were still at the dinner table when a motor horn sounded outside. Everyone ran to the door. It was not Fitzhugh’s car, however, but a much smaller one. From it descended David, John Tuckerman and Mr. Perkins.