That effectively aroused Creighton from his momentary abstraction. He grinned at the two of them.
"Pay no attention to him, Miss Copley. Yes, you can tell her what we found at the tannery, Krech." He looked at Miss Ocky. "That is in deference to your interest in the art of detection; may I count on you not to breathe a word of what I tell you to any one?"
"You may."
"It's a bargain. Go ahead, Krech, while I amuse myself looking over his desk."
Miss Ocky listened eagerly to Krech's somewhat embroidered account of their activities at the tannery, but managed to keep an eye on Peter Creighton the while. He was going over the desk and its roll-top cover inch by inch, peering at its surface, trailing his fingertips over the polished wood in case touch might find something that vision hadn't. Once he interrupted Krech by asking him to bring a magnifying glass from his bag in the hall.
"What are you looking for?" asked Miss Ocky in the interim.
"Nothing—anything. I expect the first and may chance on the second. This is just routine, Miss Copley. When I know a crook has been in a certain spot, I go over the place with a fine-tooth comb. You'd be surprised to know the number of microscopic bits of evidence a man can leave behind him in spite of every precaution."
"Have you found anything here?"
"No." He accepted the glass that Krech handed him and went back to his task. "This fellow was careful, sure enough."
The big man resumed his story. She interrupted him with a quick little exclamation when she heard of Charlie Maxon's escape. Her interest brought a question from the detective.