"No chain at all," I said sulkily. "No jewelry of any kind, except plain gold buttons in the shirt I am wearing."
"Where are your glasses?" he threw at me suddenly: instinctively my hand went to my eyes. My glasses had been gone all morning, and I had not even noticed their absence. The little man smiled cynically and held out the chain.
"I must ask you to examine this," he insisted. "Isn't it a part of the fine gold chain you wear over your ear?"
I didn't want to touch the thing: the stain at the end made me shudder. But with a baker's dozen of suspicious eyes—well, we'll say fourteen: there were no one-eyed men—I took the fragment in the tips of my fingers and looked at it helplessly.
"Very fine chains are much alike," I managed to say. "For all I know, this may be mine, but I don't know how it got into that sealskin bag. I never saw the bag until this morning after daylight."
"He admits that he had the bag," somebody
