"As to the locket supposed to have been removed from Hathaway's watch chain the night of the tragedy, and which Mr. Ashley picked up a few nights ago, I supposed until yesterday that it had been dropped by Ralph Felton. But it seems that it was torn from Mr. Ames' neck when Felton hurled himself upon him on that memorable evening at Jibana. Mr. Hathaway had detached it from his chain the morning of Memorial Day, as the spring was broken, and had given it to Helen to convey to the jeweler's to be repaired. It left Raymond with her, and when she and her husband took up their Cuban life the miniature of the younger sister was removed, for obvious reasons, and Mr. Ames wore the locket about his neck, attached to a long gold chain."
Another silence, which this time Van Zandt breaks.
"Now that the facts in the case are in your possession, Mr. Barker, I presume you will feel it your duty to report them to the proper authorities."
The detective does not reply. He glances curiously at Ashley, and the latter passes over a cigar, which the detective bites in meditative fashion.
"And you?" Van Zandt queries, turning to Ashley.
"It would make a capital story," drawls Jack, who has already told himself that the big bunch of "copy" in the pigeonhole of his desk in the Hemisphere office will never greet a compositor's eye.
"No doubt," says Van Zandt, gravely. "But, like many capital stories, it would be a source of endless pain to two estimable young ladies. It would render nil the sacrifice which Roger Hathaway made to preserve his family name from disgrace, and would make a hollow mockery of the simple epitaph which you tell me marks the marble shaft above his grave—'Faithful Unto Death.'"
The detective lights his cigar.
"Is there any likelihood, Mr. Barker, of the state of Vermont paying the $1,000 reward which was offered?" continues Van Zandt.
"None," replies Barker. "The reward was for the arrest and conviction of Roger Hathaway's murderer."
