Mr. Converse unfolded one of them, and flattened it on the desk, and as he did so, asked:
"Is it not singular that two men, apparently unknown to each other, should have betrayed interest in Doctor Westbrook's paper-knife in an identical manner? But such is the fact.
"This one was torn from a sheet of typewriter paper, such as Fairchild uses; I found it on his desk. Here we have a fairly good drawing of the dagger in question, made painstakingly, and as though to illustrate a verbal description. But he drew it from memory, as a close inspection of the sketch will indicate. He has either omitted or distorted several little details which not only appear quite plain on the dagger itself, but are quick to catch the observer's notice. But most convincing of this circumstance are the words alongside the picture blade in Fairchild's handwriting, 'about 6 inches.' The blade is, in reality, exactly five inches long: then why, if he had it before him, together with the office ruler, which lay on the desk, should he have guessed at the blade's length?
"This other came from Doctor Westbrook's desk in the reception-room. It is widely different from Fairchild's drawing, and was made by a person who is something of an artist. Furthermore, he had the weapon before him, for the intricate design on the hilt is copied faithfully; besides, many trifling details, such as the peculiar shape of the little knobs at each end of the guard, the script in which the word 'Paquita' is engraved, are all rendered exactly in the sketch. From it we are even able to form an idea when it was drawn: some time on the evening of November third, or the day before the murder. So we may say that the weapon had not been removed from the Doctor's table prior to that time. Observe this spattered blot and the hole in the paper beneath it. That was caused by the artist bringing the pen down on the paper with such force that the pen broke, the ink was spattered, and the paper perforated as you now see it.
"Doctor Westbrook has four penholders on this table; but he is so partial to a particular one of them that he invariably selects it in preference to the other three when he wishes to write. He used it about four o'clock Tuesday afternoon—the third—and did not have occasion to use it again till yesterday evening, when he started to write the letter to De Sanchez. Then he discovered that the point was bent and broken; and we may infer the sketch to have been made between four o'clock on the afternoon of the third and five o'clock last evening.
"During that time a score or more of people were in and out of the Doctor's office, and we have no handwriting to guide us in this instance, as the word 'Paquita' here is a faithful copy of the script in the scroll—too faithful to betray many individualities. But still, it is easy to infer who sketched this dagger. Observe the blot again: it is located immediately at the end of the word 'Paquita,' and was made just as the artist concluded that word. Now, what emotions would cause one to so maltreat a pen? Anger or impatience,—the two being very near akin. It follows there was some suggestion in the word 'Paquita' which angered the artist; and this immediately suggested to me the man Vargas.
"On the evening of the third he called at Doctor Westbrook's offices in company with Señor de Sanchez. He and the latter were negotiating the deal involving the deed and the shares of stock in the Paquita Gold Mining Company, and, as I have found out, Vargas was having some difficulty in closing the matter. Only that afternoon had they come to an understanding; but De Sanchez had not yet delivered the papers. Vargas was becoming very anxious and impatient over the delay of getting them into his possession. When they called on the Doctor Tuesday evening, the latter and De Sanchez retired to the consultation-room, leaving Vargas in the reception-room, and as he sat idly at the table his eye was caught by the dagger, and he fell to sketching it. The word 'Paquita' on the hilt brings suddenly to mind his anxiety and impatience; and by a natural, involuntary gesture he ruins the Doctor's pen and blots the drawing.
"I will interpolate here, so that we may dismiss him, that this person Vargas attracted my attention owing to the very fact of his presence in the city at this time, his association with deceased, and the coincidence of the name 'Paquita' occurring both on the dagger-hilt and as the name of the mining company. But I have been able to follow the negotiations between the two, and to trace Vargas's movements all yesterday afternoon, and each succeeding fact tends cumulatively to absolve him from any participation in the affair. Warren, a clerk at the La Salle House, knew of the deal; both parties frequently talked about it in his presence; and it evidently was just what it appears to be. We are extremely fortunate in having this unprejudiced witness to save confusion upon this particular point. On the afternoon of Tuesday De Sanchez and Vargas approached him in rather an elated mood, and invited him to join them in a bottle of wine to celebrate the consummation of the negotiations. Right there, you see, this deal is removed from the chance of being a motive. As the party separated, De Sanchez mentioned half-past four on the following afternoon, yesterday, as the hour for delivering the papers. Vargas was on hand promptly at the appointed time, but the other was not; and after waiting, with growing impatience, the former left the hotel and did not return until about six o'clock. But it is not probable that he entered the Nettleton Building near the time of the murder, for it would have been utterly impossible for him to do so without being seen; and he was still awaiting De Sanchez when informed of his death by the clerk, Warren. Then he hastened to Doctor Westbrook's offices.
"Now, let us return to Fairchild. I learned a fact of some importance from the Doctor this morning. Yesterday, as he was leaving his office at about one o'clock, he met Fairchild at the reception-room entrance; the latter, in a hurried manner, asked Doctor Westbrook if he could borrow the dagger for a few minutes, to which the Doctor assented. Doctor Westbrook continued on out, not giving the matter another thought, while Fairchild went into the reception-room. The Doctor don't know whether he got the dagger then; as a paper-knife, the Doctor uses it only to cut magazines or books, or the little papers in which he puts up powders—and often, when it is not right at hand, he resorts to his pocket-knife, rather than hunt for it in the mass of magazines and papers that usually litter his table. It could easily be absent from its place several days without his missing it.
"Mr. Nettleton left his office yesterday afternoon at four-thirty, and he had no lady callers during the entire day; hence the following assumption—for want of a better one—will fit the present theory: During the noon hour, while Mr. Nettleton was at lunch, Fairchild and the woman were together; the crime was contemplated and discussed between them, the man volunteering to secure the weapon; which he did, but was surprised by encountering the Doctor, who generally goes out to make his visits at that time of day.