The photographer looked to Brennan for an answer to this proposal.
"Go ahead, Benton," Brennan agreed, "we won't bother Mrs. Hatch."
While Benton was photographing Gibson and Hatch, John observed the bunko swindler more closely. To all outward appearances "Big Jim" might have been any one of the well-to-do business men one sees daily on the downtown streets. His hair was gray with a touch of white at the temples, his complexion ruddy. On the little finger of his plump, soft hand he wore a diamond ring in which the gem was the size of a pea. It was obvious that his suit was the work of a high-priced tailor. He had frank blue eyes that had a guileless expression and there were no criminal characteristics in the shape of his head, the position of his ears and the contour of his lips.
"I suppose you'll want me to go back with you," Hatch said to Gibson after Benton had made his final flashlight picture of them.
"As soon as the search is completed," assented the commissioner. "Tell me, Hatch, what about this New York job?"
"Big Jim" drew a cigar from his vest pocket, clipped off the end of it with a snap of his teeth and lighted it with a match. He puffed at the cigar, looked at it critically and smiled before he answered.
"You can speak about that to my lawyer," he said.
In pairs the deputies and detectives returned from their search of the house empty-handed.
"Nothing worth taking," they reported.