A Royal Wrong by Fred M. White

The send-off concert had turned out an infinite bore to Du Cros. He had expected great things from the select party idea. It was going to give him a better standing in Society, and the swell papers would take it up and make much of the matter. Possibly, they would do so now, but Du Cros thought the game was hardly worth the candle. He had an uneasy feeling that somebody was getting the best of him. He even suspected that there was a conspiracy to rob him of his precious belt. But that his own confederate, Bloomer, had pulled the train up in the cutting he would have been certain of it. Perhaps Bloomer had been paid to betray him. It was all very well to tell him that he had received a blow from a falling stone, but he was not disposed to believe it. It was more probable that somebody had deliberately given him a murderous blow on the back of the head. Lady Torringdor had taken advantage of the mishap, or she might have instigated it.

This latter theory was unlikely, but one never knew. Du Cros had a poor opinion of her mental capacity, and he scarcely paid her the compliment of holding her guilty. Nevertheless, he was disposed to believe she had stolen his belt, of the existence of which he did not think she was aware. At any rate, if she was not the thief, she knew who was the culprit and had benefited by the knowledge.