The military-looking detective resumed his pacing of the room, his hands behind his back clasping and unclasping nervously.

“Shag!” he suddenly called.

“Yes, sah, Colonel.”

“Is it much of a mystery—­I mean—­er—­anything but the usual blood and thunder stuff?”

“Why, Colonel,” began the black man eagerly, “it’s de beatenist mystery dat ever was—­all ’bout a murdered jewelry lady, what’s got her haid busted in with a big gold statue, an’ a gold knife stab in her side, an’ a watch shut up tight in her hand, tickin’ an’ tickin’ an’ tickin’, laik it was her heart beatin’, an’ her cousin done find her in a pool of blood on de floor, an’ de clocks all stopped, an’ a rich young spendthrift comes in an’ claims de dagger, an’ de detectives—­”

“Shag!” fairly shouted his master.

“Yes, sah, Colonel!”

“Out of the room this instant, and don’t you dare come back until I send for you!”

“Yes, sah, Colonel.”

The old colored man turned slowly to the door.  His manner was dejected.  Evidently he had given serious offense.

Silently he turned the knob, but, before he had stepped over the threshhold, he heard a voice calling softly: 

“Shag!”

“Yes, sah, Colonel.”

“Eh—­Shag—­before you go, you—­er—­you might leave me that paper I see under your vest.  I may have occasion to—­to glance at it, to see what to-morrow’s weather is going to be for fishing.”

“Yes, sah, Colonel.”

And, with a carefully concealed grin on his face, Shag drew the black-lettered paper from under his waistcoat, and laid it on the bed beside the “Complete Angler.”

CHAPTER IV

SPOTTY

“Well, now,” observed Detective Thong, and, somehow or other, his voice sounded really cheerful, “let’s see where we’re at, Mr. Darcy.  Have you looked over the stock all you want to?”

They were in a room in the rear of the jewelry store—­the city and county detectives, the reporters and James Darcy—­with Policeman Mulligan on guard near the cut glass and silver gleaming in the showcases.  On guard near a dark red stain in the floor, scarcely dry—­it was still soaking into the wood.  The body of the murdered woman had been taken away, followed by a sigh of relief from James Darcy, who, try as he did, could not keep his eyes from seeking it.

“The stock is checked up as well as I can do it in a short time,” replied the jewelry worker, who had spent some time going over the store under the watchful eyes of Carroll and Thong.  “I’m not sure anything is taken.  If there is, as I said, it can’t be much.  But I’ll go over everything more carefully, checking up the books.  That will take a few days, but I can do it while I’m here arranging for the funeral.”

“Not here you can’t do it,” broke in Carroll, with a short laugh.