Max was looking around the room, examining the window locks and whistling between his teeth.  He was in disgrace with every one, for by that time it was light enough to see three reporters with cameras across the street waiting for enough sun to snap the house, and everybody knew that it was Max and his idiotic wager that had done it.  He had made two or three conciliatory remarks, but no one would speak to him.  His antics were so queer, however, that we were all watching him, and when he had felt over the rug with his hands, and raised the edges, and tried to lift out the chair seats, and had shaken out Dal’s shoes (he said people often hid things and then forgot about it), he made a proposition.

“If you will take that infernal furnace from around my neck, I’ll undertake either to find the jewels or to show up the thief,” he said quietly.  And of course, with all the people in the house under suspicion, every one had to hail the suggestion with joy, and to offer his assistance, and Jimmy had to take Max’s share of the furnace.  So they took the scullery slip downstairs to the policeman, and gave Jim Max’s share of the furnace. (Yes, I had broken the policeman to them gently.  Of course, Anne said at once that he was the thief, but they found him tucked in and sound asleep with his back against the furnace.)

“In the first place,” Max said, standing importantly in the middle of the room, “we retired between two and three—­nearer three.  So the theft occurred between three and five, when Anne woke up.  Was your door locked, Dal?”

“No.  The door into the hall was, but the door into the dressing room was open, and we found the door from there into the hall open this morning.”

“From three until five,” Max repeated.  “Was any one out of his room during that time?”

“I was,” said Tom Harbison promptly, from the foot of the bed.  “I was prowling all around somewhere about four, searching”—­he glanced at me—­“for a drink of water.  But as I don’t know a pearl from a glass bead, I hope you exonerate me.”

Everybody laughed and said, “Of course,” and “Sure, old man,” and changed the subject quickly.

While that excitement was on, I got Jim to one side and told him about Bella.  His good-natured face was radiant at first.

“I suppose she did come to see Takahiro, eh, Kit?” he asked delicately.  “She didn’t say anything about me?”

“Nothing good.  She said the house was in a disgraceful condition,” I said heartlessly.  “And her diamond bracelet was stolen while she took a nap on the kitchen table”—­he groaned—­“and—­oh, Jim, you are such a goose!  If I could only manage my own affairs the way I could my friends’!  She’s too sure of you, Jimmy.  She knows you adore her, and—­how brutal could you be, Jim?”

“Fair,” he said.  “I may have undiscovered depths of brutality that I have never had occasion to use.  However, I might try.  Why?”