"And his eyes?"
"Black eyes—little an' round like gimlet holes."
"Heavy eyebrows, I suppose?"
"Yes," Haney agreed readily. "They sort o' stuck out."
"And his nose? Big or little? Heavy or thin?"
Haney considered that thoughtfully for a moment before he answered.
Then:
"Sort o' medium nose, Boss, with a point on it."
"And a thin face, naturally. How much did he weigh?"
"Oh, he was a little feller—skinny, you know. I reckon he didn't weigh no more'n a hundred an' twenty-five or thirty."
Some germ had been born in the fertile mind of Mr. Birnes; now it burst into maturity. He leaned forward in his chair and stared coldly at Haney.