"So, ho!" he exclaimed.
"Ah, ha!" uttered the second one, with a grunt.
"Now, what does this mean?" Mrs. Bordine finally gasped.
"Exactly what I would ask," returned the sergeant. "I've no doubt you will deny that this natty little weapon belongs to your son."
The eyes of the police sergeant regarded the widow fixedly.
He prided himself on being an expert detective, and for many days he had been investigating the murder at Ridgewood, with a view to winning the five thousand reward offered by the county sheriff.
The wound given Ransom Vane by the tramp proved but a trivial affair, and immediately on his recovery from the nervous shock into which it had thrown him, the young man came to Grandon and communicated his suspicions to the police.
"I do deny it," uttered Mrs. Bordine at length. "I never saw that dagger until last evening."
"Indeed!"
"Hasn't it been in your son's possession for a long time?"