"You'll find something all right," said Reggie.
But he showed little interest in the search, mooning after their men in and out of servants' bedrooms and yawning in corners. Inspector Mordan had gone straight to Miss Weston's room, and from it he came glowing with triumph. He called for his Superintendent, he collected Reggie and Gordon. "You gentlemen happen to recognize that?" He opened his big hand and showed the ring with the big emerald which Birdie Bolton had loved.
"That's it," Gordon cried. "That's Birdie's. Coo! What a stone, ain't it?"
"In Weston's room," the Inspector proclaimed, "on the floor; just under the bed, in Weston's room."
"Only that and nothing more?" Reggie murmured.
"Yes, where's the rest, Mordan?" said Superintendent Bell.
The Inspector smote his thigh. "By George, I see it! I let that rascal Ford see the wench alone. He's gone off stuffed with the swag."
"That's a thought," Reggie admitted, and the Superintendent lifted an eyebrow at him. "You ought to have Ford watched. No, I mean it. If I was you, Inspector, I'd have his place watched night and day."
The Inspector was visibly gratified. "I know my business, thank you," he said. "I say, doctor—it is growing, isn't it?"
