as any man’s got a right to have, but because they leaves their hatpins here, that don’t make ’em murderers. No, I argue that if a woman shot Mr. Gately she would be cute enough not to leave her hatpin by way of a visitin’ card.”

This raised Hudson’s mentality in my opinion, and I could see it also scored with Norah.

“That’s true,” she generously agreed. “In books, as soon as I come to the dropped handkerchief or broken cuff-link, I know that isn’t the property of the criminal. But, all the same, people do leave clews,—why, Sherlock Holmes says a person can’t enter and leave a room without his presence there being discoverable.”

“Poppycock,” said Hudson, briefly, and resumed his cogitation.

He was sitting at ease in Mr. Gately’s desk-chair, but I could see the man was thinking deeply, and as he had material for thought that he wasn’t willing to share with us, I returned to my own searching.

“Here’s something the lady left!” I exclaimed, as on a silver ash-tray I saw a cigarette stub, whose partly burned gold monogram betokened it had served a woman’s use.

“Hey, let that alone!” warned Hudson. “And don’t be too previous; sometimes men have gilt-lettered cigs, don’t they?”

Without reply, I scrutinized the monogram. But only a bit remained unburnt, and I couldn’t make out the letters.

Norah was digging in the waste basket, and, the scamp! when Hudson’s head was turned, she surreptitiously fished out something which she hid in her hand, and later transferred to her pocket.

“Nothing doing!” scoffed Hudson, as he turned and saw her occupation, “we been all through that, and anything incriminating has been weeded out. They wasn’t much,—some envelopes and letters, but nothing of any account. Oh, well, straws show which way the wind blows, and we’ve got some several straws!”

“Is this one?” and Norah pointed to the carriage check, which still lay on the desk.

Carriage Check/The Electric Carriage Call Co.

“Nope. Me and the Chief, we decided that didn’t mean nothing at all. It’s old, you can see, from its grimy look, so it wasn’t left here yesterday. Those things are always clean and fresh when they’re given out, and that’s sorta soiled with age, you see.”

 Prev. P 51/170 next