Further discreet inquiry proved Young to be a frequent visitor at the inn, on occasions when he was in the locality, and that was said to be often, especially of late.

Stone went back, exultant, his brain working swiftly and steadily toward his solution of the many still perplexing points.

Later that afternoon, as it was nearing dusk, a yell from the cellar told, without words, that Fibsy's quest had succeeded.

Lucille and Iris followed Fleming Stone's flying footsteps down the stairs and found Fibsy, black but triumphant.

"Here's your pinny-pin, Mr. Stone!" he cried, exhausted from fatigue and excitement, and with perspiration streaming down his sooty face. "Don't tell me it mayn't be the one! It's gotter be--oh, F. S., it's _gotter_ be!"

Only in moments of strong excitement did Terence address his employer by anything but his dignified name, but this moment was a strenuous one, and Fibsy broke loose. Tears rolled down his cheeks, as he gave the detective a pleading look.

"All right, Fibs, I've no doubt it's the one. Pins don't grow much in coal-holes, and though it may not be----" a glance at the woeful countenance made him quickly revise his speech, "But it is! I'm sure it is," he finished, smiling kindly at the big-eyed blackamoor.

"Sure! sure!" cried Sam, capering about, "nice pinny-pin! Sam put it there after Missy Iris put it in chair."

Fleming Stone looked at the pin curiously. As he had been informed, it was a common pin, of medium size, with nothing about it to distinguish it from its millions of brothers that are lost every day, everywhere.

"I'll take it up where there's a better light on it," he said, finally.

"Fibsy, you're a trump, old boy, and after you've sought the a.s.sistance that a bath-tub grants, return to the sitting room, and I'll tell you of the value of your find, in words of one syllable."

Elated beyond all words, Fibsy ran away to bathe, and the others went to the sitting room that had been Ursula Pell's.

With a very strong lens, Fleming Stone examined the pin.

"This pin is worth its weight in gold, a million times over," he said, after the briefest examination. "It explains all!--your aunt's bequest, the efforts of Young to get it--but, I say, let's wait till Fibsy comes down before I tell you the pin's secret. It's his due, after he found it for us."

"Yes, indeed, wait," agreed Lucille, "he'll be down soon. I'll go and call to him to make haste."

"Don't tell me all," said Iris to Stone, as the two were left alone, "I want to wait till Terence comes--but tell me this, will it free Winston?"

"I hope so," Stone returned, "though it's another part of the mystery.

But, to my mind, Mr. Bannard is freed already."

"Let me see the pin," and Iris took it in her hand. "Why, it is a common pin! How can you say there's anything peculiar about it?"

"You'll know soon," and Stone smiled at her. "Anyway, whatever else it means, it doubtless points the way to the recovery of the fortune of jewels that was bequeathed to you and Mr. Bannard."

"I don't want the fortune unless Winston is freed," said Iris, sadly; "if you think Charlie Young is the criminal, when are you going to get him? But you say you're not sure he killed Aunt Ursula."

"No, I'm not at all sure that he did," Stone returned gravely. "In fact, I'm inclined to think he did not."

"Then who did?"

But before Stone could answer, there was an agonized whelp from outside, as of an animal in pain.

"Goodness!" cried Iris, "that's Pom-pom's cry! Oh, my little dogsie!

What has happened?"

She flew out of the room, and ran out on the lawn, from which direction she had heard the terrified cry.

Remembering the pin, as she ran, she stuck it carefully in her belt and hurried to the spot whence the sounds proceeded.

It was nearly dark now, and she sped across the gra.s.s, in fear for the safety of her pet.

Stone started to follow her, but Lucille appeared just then, and he paused to explain matters to her.

When they reached the lawn, Iris was nowhere to be seen, and the little dog, cruelly beaten, was whining in pain and distress.

Listening intently, Stone heard the last sounds of a disappearing motor car in the distance.

"Kidnapped again!" he cried, angrily. "And she's got the pin with her!

Young, of course! Oh, how careless I've been!" and calling to Campbell, he ran toward the garage for a car.

"But how can you follow?" asked Lucille, distractedly, "you don't know which way they went, after the turn, do you?"

"No," said Stone, despairingly, "I don't."

CHAPTER XVI

KIDNAPPED AGAIN

As Stone surmised, Iris was kidnapped again. When she leaned down to gather in her arms the little, yelping dog, a figure sprang from the shrubbery, and pressing a cloth into and over her mouth a man lifted her from the ground and carried her swiftly away.

Iris was a slender girl and the man had no difficulty in carrying her to a small motor car, which was waiting out in the main road. The dusk rendered them nearly invisible, and the detention of Stone by Lucille precluded what might have been a capture of the invader.

Placed in the car, Iris recognized at once that it was the same one in which she had been carried off before, and she well knew it was for the same purpose--to get possession of the pin.

But now that Stone had told her it was valuable, she had no mind to let it go easily. She sat quietly, as the car flew along, thinking hard what she would better do. She knew Stone would follow and rescue her if he had heard any signs of her departure. But the car made little noise, and the whole affair had been so quickly accomplished that Iris feared Stone knew nothing of it all. She a.s.sumed that he would naturally follow her out-of-doors, to learn what had happened to her pet dog, but he might not hasten on that errand, and a delay of a minute would make his advent of small use to her.

They had gone a mile or so, when the car turned into a little used path through the woods. Another man was driving the car, and her captor sat in the back with Iris. He still held her and kept the cloth, which smelled faintly of chloroform, over her mouth.

At last, when well into the woods, the car stopped, and the man got out, and ordered Iris to get out, too.

Her mind was made up now; she meant secretly to draw the pin from her belt, and drop it on the ground. It was running a risk of losing it, but it was a worse risk to have this man take it from her, and, too, after Fibsy's successful search of the coal bin, she felt pretty sure the boy could find the pin in the woods. She was carefully noting the trees and stones about, when the low voice of her tormentor said, "You will hand that pin over at once, if you please."

"I'll do no such thing," Iris retorted with spirit. "I am not afraid of you."

"Nor have you reason to be, if you give up the pin quietly; otherwise, you will find yourself in a sorry predicament."

"I haven't the pin with me," declared Iris, feeling the falsehood justifiable in the circ.u.mstances.

"I regret to contradict a lady, but I don't believe you."