"I don't know what you mean," Fred rejoined promptly. "I didn't call at your house last night."
"Oh, no," Driggs replied. "I meant when you called here."
"I didn't call here, either."
"Ever see this before?" asked Driggs, holding up the chisel.
"Never," lied Fred.
"That's curious," said Driggs musingly. "Officer Curtis, the man on this beat, found the chisel here, and it was wrapped up in part of this newspaper."
Driggs brought forth from one of the drawers of his desk the newspaper in question.
"What has that scrap of paper to do with it?" asked Fred, speaking as coolly as he could.
"Why," explained Driggs, turning the paper over, "here's the mail sticker on this side, with your father's printed name and address pasted on it just as it came through the post-office."
Fred gasped audibly this time. Driggs surveyed his face with a keen, tantalizing gaze.