First, where was the ring when the lovers parted in the wood the day before the murder? Evidently in Mr. Mansell’s coat-pocket. Imogene had put it there, and Imogene had left it there. But Mansell did not know it was there, so took no pains to look after its safety. It accordingly slipped out; but when? Not while he slept, or it would have been found in the hut. Not while he took the path to his aunt’s house, or it would have been found in the lane, or, at best, on the dining-room doorstep. When, then? Mr. Gryce could think of but one instant, and that was when the young man threw his coat from one arm to the other at the corner of the house toward the street. If it rolled out then it would have been under an impetus, and, as the coat was flung from the right arm to the left, the ring would have flown in the direction of the gate and fallen, perhaps, directly on the walk in front of the house. If it had, its presence in the dining-room seemed to show it had been carried there by Mr. Orcutt, since he was the next person who went into the house.
But did it fall there? Mr. Gryce took the only available means to find out.
Sending for Horace Byrd, he said to him:
“You were on the courthouse steps when Mr. Orcutt left and crossed over to the widow’s house?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Were you watching him? Could you describe his manner as he entered the house; how he opened the gate; or whether he stopped to look about him before going in?”
“No, sir,” returned Byrd; “my eyes may have been on him, but I don’t remember anything especial that he did.”
Somewhat disappointed, Mr. Gryce went to the District Attorney and put to him the same question. The answer he received from him was different. With a gloomy contraction of his brow, Mr. Ferris said:
“Yes, I remember his look and appearance very well. He stepped briskly, as he always did, and carried his head—Wait!” he suddenly exclaimed, giving the detective a look in which excitement and decision were strangely blended. “You think Mr. Orcutt committed this crime; that he left us standing on the courthouse steps and crossed the street to Mrs. Clemmens’ house with the deliberate intention of killing her, and leaving the burden of his guilt to be shouldered by the tramp. Now, you have called up a memory to me that convinces me this could not have been. Had he had any such infernal design in his breast he would not have been likely to have stopped as he did to pick up something which he saw lying on the walk in front of Mrs. Clemmens’ house.”
“And did Mr. Orcutt do that?” inquired Mr. Gryce, with admirable self-control.
“Yes, I remember it now distinctly. It was just as he entered the gate. A man meditating a murder of this sort would not be likely to notice a pin lying in his path, much less pause to pick it up.”
“How if it were a diamond ring?”
“A diamond ring?”
“Mr. Ferris,” said the detective, gravely, “you have just supplied a very important link in the chain of evidence against Mr. Orcutt. The question is, how could the diamond ring which Miss Dare is believed to have dropped into Mr. Mansell’s coat-pocket have been carried into Mrs. Clemmens’ house without the agency of either herself or Mr. Mansell? I think you have just shown.” And the able detective, in a few brief sentences, explained the situation to Mr. Ferris, together with the circumstances of Mansell’s flight, as gleaned by him in his conversation with the prisoner.
The District Attorney was sincerely dismayed. The guilt of the renowned lawyer was certainly assuming positive proportions. Yet, true to his friendship for Mr. Orcutt, he made one final effort to controvert the arguments of the detective, and quietly said:
“You profess to explain how the ring might have been carried into Mrs. Clemmens’ house, but how do you account for the widow having used an exclamation which seems to signify it was on the hand which she saw lifted against her life?”
“By the fact that it was on that hand.”
“Do you think that probable if the hand was Mr. Orcutt’s?”
“Perfectly so. Where else would he be likely to put it in the preoccupied state of mind in which he was? In his pocket? The tramp might have done that, but not the gentleman.”
Mr. Ferris looked at the detective with almost an expression of fear.
“And how came it to be on the floor if Mr. Orcutt put it on his finger?”
“By the most natural process in the world. The ring made for Miss Dare’s third finger was too large for Mr. Orcutt’s little finger, and so slipped off when he dropped the stick of wood from his hand.”
“And he left it lying where it fell?”
“He probably did not notice its loss. If, as I suppose, he had picked it up and placed it on his finger, mechanically, its absence at such a moment would not be observed. Besides, what clue could he suppose a diamond ring he had never seen before, and which he had had on his finger but an
