"You recognize it, of course?" said Chettle, with a grim smile. "No doubt of it, eh?"
"Doubt! Recognize!" exclaimed Allerdyke. "Lord, man—why, I took it myself, not two months ago!"
CHAPTER XVIII
DEFINITE SUSPICION
Chettle laughed—a low, suggestive, satisfied chuckle. He laid the watch, its case still open, on the table at which they were standing, and tapped the photograph with the point of his finger.
"That may be the first step to the scaffold—for somebody," he said, with a meaning glance. "Ah—it's extraordinary what little, innocent-looking things help to put a bit of rope round a man's neck! So you took this, Mr. Allerdyke?—took it yourself, you say?"
"Took it myself, some eight or nine weeks ago," answered Allerdyke. "I took it in my garden one Sunday afternoon when my cousin James happened to be there. I do a bit in that way—amusement, you know. I just chanced to have a camera in my hand, and I saw James in a very favourable light and position, and I snapped him. And it was such a good 'un when developed that I printed off a few copies."
The detective's face became anxious.
"How many, now?" he asked. "How many, Mr. Allerdyke? I hope you can remember?—it's a point of the utmost seriousness."
"Naught easier," answered Allerdyke readily. "I've a good memory for little things as well as big 'uns. I printed off four copies. One of 'em I pasted into an album in which I keep particularly good photographs of my own taking; the other three I gave to him—he put 'em in his pocket-book."