“Why, cerdainly!” Mrs. Coplin exclaimed. “Thad’s Mr. Wagener who lives upsdairs.”
“Well,” said Bill; “ Mr. Wagener was picked up in a hock-shop trying to get rid of this ring.” He fished a gaudy green and white ring from his pocket. “Know it?”
“Cerdainly!” Mrs. Coplin said, looking at the ring. “Id belongs to my Phylis, and the robber—” Her mouth dropped open as she began to understand. “How could Mr. Wagener—?”
“Yes, how?” Bill repeated.
The girl stepped between Garren and me, turning her back on him to face me.
“I can explain everything,” she announced.
That sounded too much like a movie subtitle to be very promising, but—
“Go ahead,” I encouraged her.
“I found that ring in the passageway near the front door after the exciement was over. The robber must have dropped it. I didn’t say anything to Papa and Mama about it, because I thought nobody would ever know the difference, and it was insured, so I thought I might as well sell it and be that much money in. I asked Jack last night if he could sell it for me, and he said he knew just how to go about it. He didn’t have anything to do with it outside of that; but I did think he’d have sense enough not to try to pawn it right away!”
She looked scornfully at her accomplice.
“See what you’ve done!” she accused him.