Somewhat to the surprise of Donovan the military detective accepted the timepiece on his open palm, and so gingerly that it caused Donovan to remark:
"You're not as squeamish as all that, are you? Just because it was in a dead man's hand—and in a woman's?"
"Oh, not at all," was the quick answer. "But, as a matter of fact these East Indians are often carriers of bubonic plague, you know, and it's very contagious. Of course neither Shere Ali nor Singa Phut may have had the germs about them, but I am a bit squeamish when it comes to contagious diseases of that nature, and I wouldn't like to scratch myself on that watch."
"Scratch yourself—on a watch?" and Donovan's voice was plainly skeptical.
"Yes. It may have some rough edges on it. And I've read enough about germs to know the danger. I'd advise you to be careful!"
"Ha!" laughed Donovan shortly. "I should worry about that! The watch don't figure in the case, except maybe they quarreled over who owned it."
Colonel Ashley said nothing. He was carefully examining the watch, which he still held in the palm of the hand—holding it as carefully as though indeed it might be laden with germs the least touch of which against a tiny scratch might produce death.
"Quite a curiosity," said the colonel at length. "If you don't mind, I should like to examine this a bit."
"You can't take it away," said Donovan. "I may need it as evidence when we get Mr. Phut, or whatever the Dago's name is."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't think of taking it away. I'll look at it here. It seems to be a very old timepiece—one of the first made smaller than the old 'Nuremberg eggs I fancy. Quite an interesting study—watches—Donovan. Ever take it up?" and as the colonel questioned he was looking at the Indian timepiece under a magnifying glass he took from his pocket.