"Could he have been made insane, do you think?" ruminated Craig. "It's possible that he was the victim of somebody, I understand. The insanity might have been real enough without the cause being natural."
"That's an interesting story," returned Norton. "Offhand, I can't seem to recall much about the fellow, although some one else might have known him very well."
Evidently he either did not know the tale as well as the Senora, or was not prepared to take us entirely into his confidence.
"Who is Haggerty?" asked Craig, thinking of the name signed to the letter we had read.
"An agent of Whitney and his associates, who manages things in Lima," explained Norton. "Why?"
"Nothing—only I have heard the name and wondered what his connection might be. I understand better now."
Kennedy seemed to be anxious to get to work on something, and, after a few minutes, Norton left us.
No sooner had the door closed than he took the glass-bell jar off his microscope and drew from a table drawer several scraps of paper on which I recognized the marks left by the carbon sheets. He set to work on another of those painstaking tasks of examination, and I retired to my typewriter, which I had moved into the next room, in order to leave Kennedy without anything that might distract attention from his work.
One after another he examined the sheets which he had marked, starting with a hand-lens and then using one more powerful. At the top of the table lay the specially prepared paper on which he had caught and preserved the marks in the dust of the Egyptian sarcophagus in the Museum.
Besides these things, I noticed that he had innumerable photographs, many of which were labelled with the stamp of the bureau in the Paris Palais de Justice, over which Bertillon had presided.