Father and son were seated talking over photographs and the fire and Cheney, when a sharp rap sounded on the door at the foot of the stairs.
“Come in!” called the Doctor from the top step.
A lank man with a bristling red mustache came up the steps.
“Is this Dr. Hartel?” asked the man.
“Yes,” replied the Doctor. “I do seem to be wasting a good deal of my time out here just now.”
“The chief sent me over,” said the man, “to see you about some pictures that were stolen.” As he reached the top step the man looked questioningly at Allan.
“This is my boy,” Dr. Hartel said. “He took the pictures—I mean that he made them,” laughed the Doctor. “You are Dobbs, are you not?”
“Yes,” said the man. “I wish you would tell me what you know about it.”
“Dr. Hartel made some suggestions.”