One after another he looked at the carbon prints, comparing them point by point with the specially prepared copy of the shoe-prints in the sarcophagus. It was, after all, a comparatively simple job. We had the prints of de Moche and Lockwood, as well as Whitney, all of them crossed by steps from Norton.
"Well, what do you think of that?" I heard him mutter.
I quit my typewriter, with a piece of paper still in it, and hurried into the main room.
"Have you found anything?"
"I should say I had," he replied, in a tone that betrayed his own astonishment at the find. "Look at that," he indicated to me, handing over one of the sheets. "Compare it with this Museum foot-print."
With his pencil Kennedy rapidly indicated the tell-tale points of similarity on the two shoe-prints.
I looked up at him, convinced now of some one's identity.
"Who was it?" I asked, unable to restrain myself longer.
Kennedy paused a minute, to let the importance of the surprise be understood.
"The man who entered the Museum and concealed himself in the sarcophagus in the Egyptian section adjoining Norton's treasures," replied Kennedy slowly, "was Lockwood himself!"