But the crime specialist did not seem to hear him, and then, before Bat could ask a question, he had turned away and was glancing interestedly about the room once more.
“There’s the sword,” said Bat, desirous that this important feature in the doings about Schwartzberg should not be overlooked.
“Ah, yes.” The other nodded and glanced at the huge weapon with appraising eyes. “A very powerful arm. The Hohenlo who carried it at Milan was a person capable of giving good service, no doubt.”
But after one glance the speaker turned away; evidently it was not the sword he was looking for. His keen eyes, wandering about, went from object to object; then a small, beautifully fashioned desk caught his glance, and he went to it. First one drawer and then another was opened; they held stationery, letters apparently awaiting answers, small bills and other matters. At length Bat, who was absorbed in watching the turning out of the desk, gave an exclamation.
“Hello!” said he. “There we are.”
He pointed to some neatly tied packets in the bottom of a drawer.
“They are the things—the rolls of blank paper I saw Miss Knowles looking at in the storage room,” said he.
Ashton-Kirk took up one of the packets and untied it. Very carelessly, as Scanlon thought, he ran over the sheets; then he tossed them back in the drawer.
“I think,” said the crime specialist, after a moment, “that we have seen about all we want to see for a space. Inside, that is. But outside there may be one or two little matters which it would be well to pick up.” He was about to turn away from the desk; then pausing, he reopened one of the drawers and took out a tangled mass of strings which lay in the bottom of it. “Put these in your pocket,” said he, handing them to Scanlon. “We may need them to tie something together.”
Reluctantly Bat left the house with him, and glumly passed through the gate which Kretz held open.