With all else that was known, and this little additional information, which seemed of no particular value to the reporter, the entire matter was laid before The Thinking Machine. That distinguished man listened from beginning to end without comment.
"Who had access to the room? " he asked finally.
"That is what the police are working on now, " was the reply. "There are a couple of dozen servants in the house, and I suppose, in spite of Kale' s rigid orders, there was a certain laxity in their enforcement."
"Of course that makes it more difficult, " said The Thinking Machine in the perpetually irritated voice which was so distinctly a part of himself. "Perhaps it would be best for us to go to Mr. Kale' s home and personally investigate."
Kale received them with the reserve which all rich men show in the presence of representatives of the press. He stared frankly and somewhat curiously at the diminutive figure of the scientist, who explained the object of their visit.
"I guess you fellows can' t do anything with this, " the millionaire assured them. "I' ve got some regular detectives on it."
"Is Mr. Mallory here now? " asked "The Thinking Machine" curtly.
"Yes, he is up stairs in the servants' quarters."
"May we see the room from which the picture was taken?" inquired the scientist, with a suave intonation which Hatch knew well.
Kale granted the permission with a wave of the hand, and ushered them into the ball room, where the pictures had been stored. From the relative center of this room The Thinking Machine surveyed it all. The windows were high. Half a dozen doors leading out into the hallways, to the conservatory, and quiet nooks of the mansion offered innumerable possibilities of access. After this one long comprehensive squint, The Thinking Machine went over and picked up the frame from which the Rubens had been cut. For a long time he examined it. Kale' s impatience was painfully evident. Finally the scientist turned to him.
"How well do you know M. de Lesseps? " he asked.
"I' ve known him for only a month or so. Why? "
"Did he bring you letters of introduction, or did you meet him merely casually? "
Kale regarded him with evident displeasure. "My own personal affairs have nothing whatever to do with this matter," he said pointedly. "Mr. de Lesseps is a gentleman of integrity, and certainly he is the last whom I would suspect of any connection with the disappearance of the picture."
"That is usually the case, " remarked The Thinking Machine tartly. He turned to Hatch. "Just how good a copy was that he made of the Whistler picture? " he asked.
"I have never seen the original, " Hatch replied; "but the workmanship was superb. Perhaps Mr. Kale wouldn' t object to us seeing—"
"Oh, of course not, " said Kale resignedly. "Come in; it' s in the gallery."
Hatch submitted the picture to a careful scrutiny. "I should say that the copy is well nigh perfect, " was his verdict. "Of course, in its absence, I couldn' t say exactly; but it is certainly a superb work."
The curtains of a wide door almost in front of them were thrown aside suddenly, and Detective Mallory entered. He carried something in his hand, but at the sight of them concealed it behind him. Unrepressed triumph was in his face.
"Ah, professor, we meet often; don' t we? " he said.
"This reporter here and his friend seem to be trying to drag de Lesseps into this affair somehow, " Kale complained to the detective. "I don' t want anything like that to happen. He is liable to go out and print anything. They always do."
The Thinking Machine glared at him unwaveringly, straight in the eye for an instant, then extended his hand toward Mallory. "Where did you find it? " he asked.
"Sorry to disappoint you, professor, " said the detective sarcastically, "but this is the time when you were a little late, " and he produced the object which he held behind him. "Here is your picture, Mr. Kale."
Kale gasped a little in relief and astonishment, and held up the canvas with both hands to examine it. "Fine!" he told the detective. "I' ll see that you don' t lose anything by this. Why, that thing cost me fifty thousand dollars!" Kale didn' t seem able to get over that.
The Thinking Machine leaned forward to squint at the upper right hand corner of the canvas. "Where did you find it? " he asked again.
"Rolled up tight, and concealed in the bottom of a trunk in the room of one of the servants, " explained Mallory. "The servant' s name is Jennings. He is now under arrest."
"Jennings!" exclaimed Kale. "Why, he has been with me for years."
"Did he confess? " asked the scientist imperturbably.
"Of course not, " said Mallory. "He says some of the other servants must have hidden it there."
The Thinking Machine nodded at Hatch. "I think perhaps that is all, " he remarked. "I congratulate you, Mr. Mallory, upon bringing the matter to such a quick and satisfactory conclusion."
Ten minutes later they left the house and caught a car for the scientist' s home. Hatch was a little chagrined at the unexpected termination of the affair, and was thoughtfully silent for a time.
