Mr. Belden Brice was Mrs. Place's brother. He was a speculator in patents and fairly well-to-do. He was several years older than his sister, and understood her disposition thoroughly.
Mrs. Mace pursed up her lips.
"I know what I'm doing," she replied, tartly. "That boy took those rings. I am as sure of it as that I am born!"
"Where do you keep your jewel casket?" asked Belden Brice.
"In the closet of the front room up stairs."
"And this young man was at work in that room?"
"He was, for quite a while."
"Was the door to the closet locked?"
"I suppose it was, but he could easily pick the lock, he has such a lot of tools."
"Where is the jewel casket now?"
"Standing on the chair, wide open."
"When did you place it in the closet last?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
"Did you sleep in the room last night?"
"Yes; and I was in there all morning till he and Mr. Fells came."
"You were in the room till we came?" asked Franklin, curiously.
"Yes; that is, excepting a few minutes I spent in the parlor."
"Were you in the parlor just before we came?" went on the youth.
