The telegraphone stopped, and that seemed to be the last conversation recorded.  So far we had learned nothing very startling, I thought, and was just a little disappointed.  Kennedy seemed well satisfied, however.

Our own telephone rang, and it proved to be Donnelly on the wire.  He had been trying to get Kennedy all day, in order to report that at various times his men at Trimble’s had observed Mrs. Willoughby and later Annie Grayson looking with much interest at the Kimberley Queen, and other jewels in the exhibit.  There was nothing more to report.

“Keep it on view another day or two,” ordered Kennedy.  “Advertise it, but in a quiet way.  We don’t want too many people interested.  I’ll see you in the morning at the store—­early.”

“I think I’ll just run back to Glenclair again to-night,” remarked Kennedy as he hung up the receiver.  “You needn’t bother about coming, Walter.  I want to see Dr. Guthrie a moment.  You remember him?  We met him to-day at the country club, a kindly looking, middle-aged fellow?”

I would willingly have gone back with him, but I felt that I could be of no particular use.  While he was gone I pondered a good deal over the situation.  Twice, at least, previously some one had pilfered jewellery from stores, leaving in its place worthless imitations.  Twice the evidence had been so conflicting that no one could judge of its value.  What reason, I asked myself, was there to suppose that it would be different now?  No shoplifter in her senses was likely to lift the great Kimberley Queen gem with the eagle eyes of clerks and detectives on her, even if she did not discover that it was only a paste jewel.  And if Craig gave the woman, whoever she was, a good opportunity to get away with it, it would be a case of the same conflicting evidence; or worse, no evidence.

Yet the more I thought of it, the more apparent to me was it that Kennedy must have thought the whole thing out before.  So far all that had been evident was that he was merely preparing a “plant.”  Still, I meant to caution him when he returned that one could not believe his eyes, certainly not his ears, as to what might happen, unless he was unusually skilful or lucky.  It would not do to rely on anything so fallible as the human eye or ear, and I meant to impress it on him.  What, after all. had been the net result of our activities so far?  We had found next to nothing.  Indeed, it was all a greater mystery than ever.

It was very late when Craig returned, but I gathered from the still fresh look on his face that he had been successful in whatever it was he had had in mind when he made the trip.

“I saw Dr. Guthrie,” he reported laconically, as we prepared to turn in.  “He says that he isn’t quite sure but that Mrs. Willoughby may have a touch of vertigo.  At any rate, he has consented to let me come out to-morrow with him and visit her as a specialist in nervous diseases from New York.  I had to tell him just enough about the case to get him interested, but that will do no harm.  I think I’ll set this alarm an hour ahead.  I want to get up early to-morrow, and if I shouldn’t be here when you wake, you’ll find me at Trimble’s.”