“Oh, yes, sir. I’ve never missed in five years.”
“Any one see you do it?”
“Maybe so and maybe not so,” Old Herm answered vaguely. “If anyone saw me, I didn’t see them.”
While the old fellow’s voice and face was innocence itself, it seemed rather strange to Flash that he did not ask the officer why he was being questioned. It was barely possible, he thought, that Old Herm knew the reason, yet the chances were against his having talked with anyone about the theft and attack.
The officer studied the watchman for a moment. Then he took the key which had been found in the darkroom and held it before Old Herm’s eyes.
“Ever see that before?”
“Why, ah, yes, I have,” the watchman stammered.
“Yours isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Old Herm admitted readily, “it’s the key to the janitor’s supply room in the basement.”
“We didn’t find it in the basement. We picked it up in the photography department. Have you been in there tonight?”