“Yes; but be careful; it is of glass and will break easily.”
There was a moment of silence, and then the doctor, who stood with his back to the detective, spoke.
“You say the needle is of glass?”
“I have reason to believe it is.”
“Well, you are mistaken. It is of steel.”
“Steel? Let me see it.”
The doctor passed the tiny weapon to the detective, who examined it critically, and then, after carefully wrapping it in paper, deposited it inside his own card-case. But he did not hesitate to express his surprise to the physician at the discovery, for the needle extracted from the neck of the murdered man was in reality a needle—a three-sided, sharp-pointed needle such as is used by furriers; in fact—to give it its true colloquial name—a fur needle.
“A dangerous weapon,” said the doctor.
“Dangerous, indeed,” assented Nick. “Now, doctor, if you will proceed with your examination from the professional standpoint, so that you will be prepared to give your testimony in detail at the proper time and place, I will give my attention to the other things in the room.”
From that time on the two men worked together in silence, only occasionally calling the attention of each other to some discovery that was pertinent to the occasion.