“And besides,” Frank went on, “I guess the only way to prove that the thief owns these clothes is by comparing the hairs in the hat with the red wig. And Joe and I don’t have the wig.”
With a grin the detective went to his files and brought it out. “Chief Collig left this here.”
The strands of hair were compared and matched perfectly!
“You boys have certainly made fine progress,” Mr. Hardy praised his sons. He smiled. “And since you have, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Chief Collig asked me to see what I could figure out of the wig. He says there’s no maker’s name on it.”
“And there isn’t?” Joe asked.
His father’s eyes twinkled once more. “I guess Collig’s assistants weren’t very thorough. At any rate, I discovered there’s an inner lining and on that is the maker’s name. He’s in New York City and I was just thinking about flying there to talk to him. Now you boys have given me a double incentive for going.”
Frank and Joe beamed with pleasure, then suddenly their faces clouded.
“What’s the matter?” Mr. Hardy asked them.
Joe answered. “It looks as if you’re going to solve the case all alone.”
“Nothing of the sort,” the detective replied. “The person who bought the wig may not have given his name. The hat may have been purchased a long time ago, and it isn’t likely that the clerk who sold it will remember who bought it. The same with the jacket.”