"Well," said Godfrey, slowly, "it might be done in several ways. The first thing is to get a good set of the prints to be reproduced. That Silva got from this album. The moulds might be made by cutting them in wood or metal; but that would take an expert—and besides, I fancy it would be too slow for Silva. He had a quicker way than that—perhaps by transferring them to a plate of zinc or copper and then eating them out with acid. Once the mould is secured, it is merely a question of pressing india-rubber-mixture into it and then heating the rubber until it hardens—just as a rubber-stamp is made. The whole process would take only a few hours."
Simmonds drew a deep breath.
"It may be simple," he said, "but that fellow's a genius, just the same. He's much too clever to be at large. We've got to get him!"
"Be sure of one thing," retorted Godfrey. "You'll find it harder to catch him than it was to let him go! He won't walk into your arms. Not that I blame you, Simmonds," he added; "but I blame those muckle-headed men of yours—and I blame myself for not keeping my eyes open. Here's the glove—take good care of it. It means Swain's acquittal. And now there is one other thing I want to see before we go to bed. Suppose we make a little excursion to the roof."
"To the roof? What for?" demanded Simmonds, as he wrapped the glove in his handkerchief and put it in his pocket.
"You know how fond you are of fire-works!" retorted Godfrey, smiling, and started for the door.
"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," said Hinman, "but I'm as curious as an old woman,—and I like fire-works, too!"
"Come along, then," laughed Godfrey, and led the way up the stairs. "This time we'll go as quietly as we can!" he added, over his shoulder.
In the entry at the top of the stairs leading to the attic story was a heavy closed door, and Godfrey looked at it with a smile.
"Do you suppose those two German servants have slept on through all this excitement?" he asked; and we found afterwards that they had!