The man was so utterly confounded by the unexpected sight that for a moment he gazed at them with a look of wonder on his face.

“Zounds! where did you get them?” he cried, breathlessly.

Mona briefly explained regarding the accident to the table, which had resulted in her discovering the secret compartment with its treasures.

“Clever! clever!” the man muttered, as his eyes fastened upon the table and he comprehended the truth.  “Well, well, young lady, you’ve done a fine stroke of business this day, and no mistake!  These are the real articles, no paste or sham to fool me this time,” he added, as he lifted the crescents from the box.  “But—­when—­Mrs. Richmond Montague!—­who’d have thought it?”

“This isn’t all, Mr. Rider,” Mona continued, in a whisper, for she feared Mrs. Montague might catch the sound of their voices.

“What! more discoveries!” the man exclaimed, all alert again, as he shut the box and slipped it into his pocket.

“Yes, step this way, if you please,” and leading him to the door of Mrs. Montague’s chamber, she pointed at the costume lying upon the bed.

The quick eyes took it all in at a glance, and his face lighted with a swift flash of triumph.

“The Bently affair—­the Vanderbeck swindle—­the Palmer robbery!  Clever! clever!” he muttered, as he seized the costume, shook out its folds, discovered the thick layers of padding about the waist and hips, and eyed it with intense satisfaction.  Then he revealed two rows of firm, white teeth in a broad smile, as he snatched up and twirled that dainty red wig upon his hand, examining it with a critical and admiring eye.

“And this, also,” continued Mona, going to the trunk and lifting from it the tailor-made costume of gray ladies’ cloth.

“Aha! ha!” chuckled Mr. Rider.  “Really, Miss Richards, if you were only a man we might make a right smart detective of you.  This is the very dress we have been wanting, and here is the rent.  Have you still the fragment that you showed me in St. Louis?”

“Yes, it is here in my purse,” Mona answered, drawing it from her pocket, and, taking the piece of cloth from it, she handed it to him.

“Here, too, is the gray wig worn by Mrs. Walton,” she went on, as she lifted the lid of the hat-box and revealed its contents.

“Yes; true enough! and I’ll wager that this trunk contains some other disguises which we should recognize,” he responded.  “But,” he added, “we have enough for our purpose just now, and we will defer further examination until later.  Now, Miss Richards, I am going down stairs to confront that woman with this stolen property.  You follow me, but remain in the hall until I give you a signal, then come forward with these disguises.  Have you any idea who is below calling on her ladyship?” he asked, in conclusion.

“No; but I am very sure that Mr. Raymond Palmer is somewhere in the house, for he was to call for me, and his carriage is at the door.”