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Iris thought of dropping it out of the window, which was open, though the shade was down, but concluded that her ever finding it again would be too doubtful. She thought of concealing it in her abundant hair--but suppose she were made to take down her hair! A sort of intuition told her that she would be searched, and she must be ready.
At last she thought of a hiding-place, and as a start she drew Flossie's attention to a slightly loose shade ta.s.sel, while, with a gesture as of straightening a tiny velvet bow at her throat, she drew her hand down the frill, and brought the pin with it.
Concealed in her left hand, and stealthily watching her companion's eyes, she waited her chance, and then, unnoticed, she thrust it, head end first, into the hem of her white serge skirt. The loose weave of the material made this possible, and the pin disappeared into the inch wide hem. It might be safe there and it might not. Iris thought it would, and at any rate she could think of no better place to conceal it.
Also, getting another pin from her belt she placed it where the "valuable" pin had been, for further precaution.
Nor did she accomplish her work much too soon, for very shortly they drove in at a gate and stopped at the door of a small house.
There was no attempt at hiding now, and Iris was handed out of the car by the man who had driven them. With no appearance of stealth, Flossie ushered her into the house, which proved to be an ordinary, middle-cla.s.s dwelling of country people.
The sitting room they went into had a table with a red cover, some books of no interest, and an old-fas.h.i.+oned lamp on a wool-work mat. The patent rocker and a few other worn chairs betokened family furnis.h.i.+ngs bought in the eighties, and not renewed since.
Flossie closed the door, and spoke to Iris, in a new and very decided tone.
"Miss Clyde," she said, with respect and politeness, "I'm truly sorry, but you are here and I am here, in order that I may take from you a pin, which you have somewhere in your clothing. I deeply regret the necessity, but it is imperative that I make sure of getting every pin that is on your person. Please do not make it harder for me--for both of us--than is necessary. For, I a.s.sure you, I shall do my duty."
"A pin?" said Iris, innocently, "here is one."
She took one from her belt, in which there chanced to be several, and thanked her lucky stars that she had hidden the real one. It might be found, for this girl was surely energetic, but Iris trusted much to her own dramatic ability now.
"Not one, but all," said Flossie, gravely. "I'm afraid you don't understand----"
"I'm sure I don't!" interrupted Iris. "What about a pin?"
"I won't waste words with you, if you please. I am here to take from you every pin you have in your clothing. You will please undress slowly, that I may get them all. Here is a paper of new ones to replace them.
Will you please take off your s.h.i.+rtwaist, or shall I?"
Iris looked aghast. Then she concluded it would be best to submit.
"Will you lock the door?" she said, haughtily.
"It is locked. We are quite safe from intrusion or interruption. Please proceed."
Iris proceeded. But as she removed her s.h.i.+rtwaist, she furtively, yet careful that Flossie should see her, glanced at the pin in its frill.
She laid the garment on a chair, and went on to disrobe, with the cold dignity of a queen on the scaffold.
Flossie was kind and delicately courteous.
"Not your underclothing, of course," she said. "I have reason to think you secreted the pin I want in your clothes, a few moments before you--before you left home, and I think it must be in your frock or petticoats. Or, perhaps, in your camisole."
She examined the dainty lingerie with scrutinizing care, and extracted every pin--of which she found several. Each one she carefully laid aside, and gravely offered Iris a new pin in its place.
Pretty sure, now, that her pin would not be found, Iris let herself be amused at the whole performance.
"Do you do this as a profession," she asked, "or are you an amateur?"
"Both," was the unsmiling answer. "Will you give me your word there are no more pins on you?"
"I will give you my word there is only this one, and you are welcome to it." Iris took a pin from a loop of ribbon that adorned her petticoat ruffle, "but I must ask for one to replace it. I'm a shockingly careless mortal, and I fully meant to sew that bow on, but I didn't."
Flossie stared at her hard, but Iris didn't quiver an eyelash of fear or apprehension, and the other allowed her to dress herself again.
"That is all," Flossie said, shortly, as once more Iris was in full costume. "We will go now."
They re-entered the car, which was still at the door, and started back the way they had come.
CHAPTER XI
GONE AGAIN!
"The murder mystery is bad enough," said Hughes, "but this disappearance of Miss Clyde is also alarming. There is deep deviltry going on, and since Winston Bannard is in custody it can't be a.s.sumed that he had any hand in the matter."
"Unless Iris is doing something for Win," suggested Miss Darrel.
"They may be working in collusion----" began Hughes, but Mr. Chapin interrupted. "Don't use such an expression! Working in collusion implies wrong-doing. If those two, or either of them, should be hunting the hidden jewels, they have a perfect right to do so. The jewels belong to them--if they can find them."
"Iris Clyde isn't on any jewel hunt," declared Hughes, when, at that very moment, in at the door came Iris herself.
Her hair was decidedly tumbled, and her pretty lingerie waist was rumpled, but otherwise she looked trim and tidy.
But angry! Her eyes blazed as she cried, "Oh, I am so glad you men are here! I've had such an experience! Mr. Hughes, you must look up the people who kidnapped me--kidnapped me, in broad daylight! At my own side door! It seems to me as incredible as it must seem to you!"
"There, there," said Lucille, trying to calm the excited girl, "have you had your dinner?"
"No, and I don't want any. Listen, everybody, while I tell you about it."
They listened, breathlessly and absorbedly, while Iris told every detail of her adventure.
"And then," she wound up, "after Flossie had searched me as thoroughly as a police matron might have done, she allowed me to put on my things again, and we came back just as we went. I mean, I was put into the car with her, it was a little coupe affair, you know, and the same man drove it. We had the shades up part of the time, but as we made a turn she pulled them down, and as we neared this house, she put the shawl over my head again. It was a nice, white, woolly shawl, and smelt faintly of violet. Well, when we got to the bend of the--road below here, they asked me to get out and walk the rest of the way. I did so, gladly enough! I was so relieved to see the house again, that I just _ran_ to it. They scooted, of course, and that's all. Now, Mr. Hughes, catch 'em!"
"Not so easy, Miss Clyde. The thing was carefully planned, and carried out with equal care. Did they get the pin?"
"They did not! Now, Mr. Hughes--Mr. Chapin, that pin must have some value. What can it be? To say it's a lucky pin is silly, I think."
"But what else could be its value?" said Chapin, wonderingly. "Let me see it."
"I won't let anybody see it, unless we draw the blinds and lock the doors," said Iris, decidedly. "I tell you there is some value to this pin. Could it be made of radium, or something like that?"
"Let's see it," demanded Hughes.
"All right, I will," and Iris locked the doors herself, and drew down the window shades. Then, turning on an electric light, she turned up the hem of her white serge skirt, and began feeling for the pin. And she found it, though the point had come through the material. But the head held it in, and Iris easily extricated it.
"There!" she said, holding it up, "that is the 'valuable pin' Aunt Ursula bequeathed to me. What do you make of it?"