CHAPTER XXII.

A NEW MYSTERY.

After several dances in the big room cleared for that purpose, the guests were invited to an adjoining room, where supper was served by the hostess and her mother. Tanner, Metcalfe, and other members of the stock company were hovering about Miss Lydecker, drinking impromptu toasts, laughing, and exchanging pleasantries.

She finally broke away from them and came over to where Klein was chatting with Miss Reed.

“I was just telling Miss Reed,” Klein said, “how careless the majority of you girls are with your jewels.”

“You don’t suppose for one minute, Mr. Klein, that we would keep them locked up when so many gallant men are about!” Miss Lydecker exclaimed. She fumbled at a big brooch pinned on her bodice. It was a wonderful piece of workmanship, fashioned of diamonds and other precious stones, and cunningly wrought in the shape of a lotus flower.

“Daddy gave me this last week, and told me never to wear it except on state occasions,” Miss Lydecker announced. “It has been in our family several generations, and——”

Metcalfe interrupted at this moment. “Playing favorites so early in the evening, Miss Lydecker?” he asked.

“I’ve just been given a warning,” she said.

“A Black-hand letter?” asked Tanner, who had strolled up.

“Hardly as bad as that. But as usual it fell upon deaf ears.”

Several other men came up at this moment, and the conversation was abruptly shifted. Klein watched as Miss Lydecker walked away, surrounded by a group of admirers.

Perhaps five minutes elapsed. None of the guests had left the room—of this Klein was positive, since he was sitting nearest the door—and the incessant chatter rose and fell like the murmur of surf on a distant shore.

The men were allowed to enjoy cigars, and the room was soon filled with drifting smoke. Tanner, evidently at some one’s request, stepped to the nearest window and opened it.

“There!” he exclaimed. “That’s better.” He drew in a deep breath. “Isn’t the sea air refreshing?”

He sat down on the arm of Klein’s chair. “Do you know it is three o’clock?”

“I’d forgotten about the time,” Klein answered. “I suppose we ought to be home.”

“Dress rehearsal to-morrow night, remember,” Tanner cautioned. “Bond raked me over the coals to-day. I’ve got sixty sides for next week, and I’ve hardly glanced at the script. It is up to me to pound all day to-morrow.”

Miss Lydecker came over and joined them. “The party is breaking up. I’ll have the cars sent around,” she said.

“That’s thoughtful of you, Miss Lydecker,” replied Tanner. “What a hostess you are!”

“You must not forget next Saturday night,” she cautioned both of the men. “We’re going to have a real party. It’s my birthday. Daddy has promised me an orchestra from New York.”

“You could not keep us away,” murmured Tanner.

Klein, who had been watching her closely, suddenly spoke. “I notice, after all, Miss Lydecker, that you have taken heed of my warning.”

“What warning?” she asked, frowning.

“About the brooch. You have put it away.”

The girl’s hand went quickly to her collar, and instantly she paled. “The—the brooch,” she gasped; “it’s—gone.”

“You didn’t take it off yourself?” cried Klein.

“No,” she faltered; “I—I—it’s lost.”

“Good Lord!” broke from Tanner’s lips.

“You haven’t been out of this room since you spoke with me last, have you?” inquired Klein.

She shook her head.

“Then it must be in here—some place!”

Tanner gripped Klein’s arms. “Do you think some one might——”

“We’ll have to find that out,” said Klein. “I’ve been sitting here for the past half hour. Not one of the guests passed out; I’m positive of that.”

Tanner’s eyes narrowed as he caught Klein’s meaning. “I understand. We’ll keep them all here until——”

A few minutes later the whole room was made aware of the discovery. The girls huddled together in a frightened group, while the men gathered around Tanner and Klein.

“I saw the brooch barely fifteen minutes ago,” Klein said, addressing them. “And Miss Lydecker has not been out of this room. The brooch must be in here.”

Under his direction the room was gone over, inch by inch. Nothing was found. After that, at Tanner’s suggestion, each of the men submitted himself to a search. Tanner allowed Klein to search him, and then the process was reversed. Following this, Klein assured himself that none of the other men present had the jewel upon him.

Klein walked over to Miss Lydecker and spoke to her. “Don’t give up so readily, Miss Lydecker. Your brooch cannot be far away. Every man here, I am sure, will make a determined effort to——”

“What—what’ll daddy say?” she moaned. “He told me not to wear it.”

“Cheer up!” exclaimed Klein. “I’ll wager you’ll be wearing it before next Saturday night.”

Miss Lydecker finally calmed herself, and offered a limp hand to the departing guests. The machines drew up at the door, and the girls and their escorts silently took their seats.

“Don’t worry too much,” Klein said, smiling into her white face; “things may brighten to-morrow. Good-by.”