tenant, that night Astro found out that no one had been suspected of the robbery of Mrs. Landor's jewels strongly enough to warrant arrest. Ethel Shaw and her fiance were both present at the Landor reception held on the night when the jewels were stolen. A charge of cleptomania might, therefore, be reasonably preferred against her. As young Shaw had said, such an accusation, coupled with her testimony as to the method by which she obtained the jewels, would deal a serious blow to the Shaws' social aspirations.
McGraw had too often profited by Astro's assistance in puzzling cases not to do his best to help the palmist; but nothing was known by the police about the count or his valet. It was found, however, that, on his passage across the Atlantic in the Penumbria, Count D'Ampleri had taken no servant. This of itself was of sufficient importance for Astro to request McGraw to look up the man and furnish a description of him and his circumstances. This, in a few days, revealed the fact that the valet had a dubious reputation, and it was suspected that he had been in prison. McGraw himself was not sure at first; but subsequently a brother officer familiar with the Italian quarter of New York positively identified him as Kneesy Tim, who had done time for second-story work, and was so called among his pals on account of his knock-knees.
It did not take the officer long after that to ascertain through the detective force that Tim had attended the Landor reception as Count D'Ampleri's valet. The line of evidence was now direct. Tim had welded the most important link of it himself by appearing as the bearer of the stolen jewels. His boldness was accounted for, of course, by the fact that he relied on
