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Hutchins went on with the tale, and came to the scene at the home of Miss Cutler. He told of finding the scarab in the goldfish bowl, where she had so cleverly hidden it.

“Have you the scarab?” Barham asked, speaking for the first time during the recital. “Is it really valuable?”

“You know scarabs, Drew,” Mrs. Selden said, “you brought some home from Egypt, didn’t you?”

“Yes; Mother; but I’m not a real connoisseur. Mine are good specimens—but not by any means famous ones. Is Locke’s, Mr. Hutchins?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to take it to the Museum, and have it sized up. Want to see it? I doubt if it’s what you call famous.”

He took the stone beetle from his pocket and handed it over.

Andrew Barham examined it with interest; first courteously offering it for Mrs. Selden’s inspection. But she merely glanced at it, saying, “It looks like all the others to me.”

“I don’t think it is a King’s scarab,” Barham observed as he examined the thing; “I’ll just take it to my library a minute, while I look it up in a book I have.”

He was gone but a moment, and returned saying, “As I thought—it is a good one, but not a royal scarab. Doubtless, as you intimated, the value to Locke lay in its associations—or perhaps a superstition—rather than in its money value.”

He gave one more glance at the stone he held and then handed it back to Hutchins, who wrapped it in its bit of paper and returned it to his pocket.

Then Hutchins told them about the stained glove he had found hidden in Miss Cutler’s room, and at last his hearers began to realize that the detective was leading up