"Is that the knife that was used?" he asked.
"Yes." The county official rather reluctantly uncovered the exhibit. "Don't touch!"
"No fear!" Creighton reassured him.
He moved nearer to the ghastly souvenir and bent over it. A fine bit of Oriental workmanship that any museum might have valued; the haft was of silver, exquisitely chased, the blade was straight and slender, narrowing to a needlelike point, so that it belonged rather to the stiletto type than the dagger. An inscription ran lengthwise down the steel, which was of a distinct bluish tinge where it was not darkly stained. About an inch from the tip a tiny triangular nick had been made in one of the sharp edges, the only flaw in the weapon's perfection. Creighton looked up from it to meet the Sheriff's speculative eye.
"Can you read what it says on the blade, Mr. Creighton?"
"No! I have my limitations."
"It means, 'I bring peace'!" The officer tugged at his mustache and smiled. "Miss Copley told us that. It belongs to her."
"Well, I expect she won't want it back."
Norvallis put down the anonymous letter which he had been reading. His eyes were alight with satisfaction.
"This case will make people talk when it gets into the papers, Mr. Creighton!"