As he sorted garments, Flash came upon the envelope which contained photographic prints. He poured them out on the table, examining them one by one.
Reaching the last print, a peculiar expression crossed his face. “That’s queer,” he muttered.
He went through the stack a second time, taking care that two did not stick together. The picture he sought was not there.
His chair made a grating sound on the bare floor as he turned to face his roommate.
“Doyle,” he said quietly, “tell me the straight truth. Did you remove a picture of Herbert Rascomb from this envelope?”
CHAPTER XIV
RASCOMB’S INVITATION
George Doyle slammed the deck of cards together, tossing the box into a suitcase which lay open on the floor. He regarded Flash with an insolent, offended gaze.
“Now what would I want with any of your pictures?”
“I thought you might have looked at them while I was downstairs.”
“You thought!” Doyle mocked. “Why don’t you come right out and accuse me of being a sneak thief! Your personal effects are of no interest to me, little man! Not the slightest.”