Then a click sounded, followed by a blaze of light. He turned quickly in the direction whence the voice had come. He saw the glint of a pistol barrel pointed toward him with a steady hand, and behind the pistol stood Lieutenant Culligore.
CHAPTER XXI—FINGER PRINTS
The detective’s face was as dull and unimpassioned as a caricature carved out of wood. He stood pointing the pistol with a listless air, and his eyes were heavy and sluggish, as if he were not fully awake. He lowered the weapon almost as soon as he saw the Phantom’s face, but did not put it out of sight.
“Oh, it’s you, Granger.” He spoke in a drawl, and there might have been the faintest trace of disappointment in his tones. “I thought it might be someone else.”
“The Gray Phantom, for instance?”
“Well, maybe. There’s no reason, though, why the Phantom should be prowling around here, is there?”
“Apparently not.” The Phantom advanced leisurely and looked sharply at the speaker’s stolid face. The question had been spoken in a tone faintly suggestive of an underlying meaning. “It seems both of us are taking advantage of the absence of Doctor Bimble and Jerome to do a little investigating on the quiet.”
Culligore yawned ostentatiously. “The doc ought to have new locks put on his doors. It’s too easy for people to get in.”
“He is a simple and unsuspecting soul. But tell me, lieutenant, how it happens that the Phantom’s trail leads into Doctor Bimble’s basement.”
“Does it?”