Near by stood a costly microscope, a stand of small test tubes, several vials containing chemicals, together with numerous other articles which Nick had been using.
He replaced on the table one section of the jimmy, while speaking, and Patsy took it up to gaze at the dark-red stains on it, remarking, with some surprise:
“Human blood, chief, but not from the veins of the murdered woman? Gee whiz! that’s mighty significant. Are you sure of it?”
“Absolutely sure,” said Nick.
“You now have tested the blood on each of these articles?” Chick inquired.
“Yes.”
“And the results are convincing?”
“Decidedly convincing,” said Nick, with a look of satisfaction on his strong, clean-cut face. “There is no question as to the reliability of a microscopic examination of particles of blood, if made by a person thoroughly informed on the subject. I have, as you know, made an exhaustive study of it.”
“I am aware of that, Nick, of course.”
“The blood of no two creatures is precisely alike,” Nick continued. “Under the microscope, and with proper tests, that of two human beings, even, presents certain distinct differences, often by a small margin, of course, but nevertheless clearly distinct.”