“Nothing else?”

“No—­um let me see—­no, I think not.”

“Are you sure, Dr. Warren?”

The colonel’s voice had a strange ring in it.

“Why, yes, I am sure.  I was about to say that there was a slight abrasion in the palm of the left hand, a sort of scratch or puncture, as though from a pin, but as she was in the jewelry business and, as I understand it, often made slight repairs herself to brooches and pins brought in, this could easily be accounted for.”

“A slight abrasion in the left hand you say?”

“Yes.  But I don’t attach any importance to that.  It was so slight that I and my assistant only gave it a passing glance.  It hardly penetrated the skin.”

“I see.  In the left hand.  This is the hand in which the ticking watch was found, was it not?”

“I believe so.  The watch belonging to an Indian named Singa Phut.  By the way what became of him?” the doctor asked of Detective Carroll, who had strolled out of the detectives’ private room and was listening to the conversation.

“Oh, that gink?  He made a big howl about getting back his watch, and as he had a perfectly good alibi, and we could fasten nothing on him, we give it back to him and told him to beat it.  He did, I guess.”

“No, he is still in town,” said Colonel Ashley.  “I passed his place a while ago.  He has a pair of beautiful Benares candlesticks, in the form of hooded cobra snakes, that I want to get.  Singa Phut is still in town.”

“Does that answer all your questions, Colonel?” inquired Dr. Warren.  “I’ll tell you all I can, in reason, but if—­”

“Thank you!  You’ve told me all I cared to know.  I have some theories I want to work on, and I’m not sure how they’ll turn out.”

“I s’pose you think Darcy didn’t do this job,” cut in Carroll, rather sneeringly.

“I’m positive he didn’t, sir!” and the colonel drew himself up and looked uncompromisingly at the headquarters detective.  “If I thought he had done it, I would not be associated with his case.”

“You’re going to have a sweet job proving he didn’t do it,” laughed the officer.

“Maybe,” assented the colonel unruffled.

“Who else could have croaked her?” pursued Carroll.  “Here he goes and has a quarrel with the old lady just before he goes to bed.  He’s sore at her because he thinks she’s keeping back part of his coin.  Then he’s sore because she made some cracks about his girl—­that’s enough to get any man riled.  I don’t blame Darcy for going off his nut.  But he shouldn’t have croaked the old lady.  He done it all right, and we got the goods on him!  You’ll see!”

“Well, it’s your business, of course—­yours and that of the prosecutor—­to prove him guilty,” said the colonel.  “And you can’t quarrel with me if I try to prove him innocent.”

“Sure not, Colonel.  Every man’s got to earn his bread and butter somehow.  Only I hate to see you kid yourself along believing this guy didn’t do the job.  He done it, I tell you!”