child, to conceal herself in the study, or to leave it except by the door which the others entered!"
"And they found no other marks or indications of the person's presence except those you have mentioned?"
"No, Mr. Trant, they found—at that time—absolutely none," Pierce replied, slowly. "But when I returned that night and myself was able to go over the room carefully with Iris, I found—this, Mr. Trant," he thrust a hand into his pocket, and extended it with a solitary little egg-shaped stone gleaming upon his palm—"this, Mr. Trant," he repeated, staring at the little, blazing crystal egg as though fascinated, "the mere sight of which cast such an extraordinary 'spell' upon my ward, Iris, that, after these two days, trying to puzzle it out sanely myself, I was unable to bear the strain of it a moment longer, and wrote you as I did last night, in the hope that you—if anyone—might be able to advise me."
"So this is the little green stone!" Trant took it carefully from his client's palm and examined it. "The little green stone of which the negress was speaking to Miss Iris when you came in! You remember the door was open!"
"Yes; that is the little green stone!" Pierce cried. "The chalchihuitl stone; the green turquoise of Mexico. The first sight of it struck Iris dumb and dull-eyed before me and started this strange, this baffling, inexplicable apathy toward me! Tell me, how can this be?"
"You would hardly have called even me in, I presume," Trant questioned quietly, "if you thought it
