He delivered his shot in a casual way, and the colonel took it stonily; nevertheless, it went to the mark. Birdsall continued. “Now, question is, was Mercer the secretary? You didn’t see the man in the elevator, except his back. Had he two moles?”
“I couldn’t see. He had different clothes; but still there was something like Mercer about the shoulders.”
“Burney didn’t get a chance to take a snapshot, but he did snap the stove man. Here it is. Pull that book out of my pocket.”
Obeying, the colonel lifted a couple of small prints which he scrutinized intently, at the end, admitting, “Yes, it is he all right. Now do you know what I think?”
Birdsall couldn’t form an idea.
“I think the Keatcham party is in it; and I think they are after bigger game than Archie. Maybe the train robbers were a part of the scheme—although I’m not so sure of that.”
“Oh, the robbers were in it all right. But now come to Miss Smith; where does she come in? Or are you as sure of her as Mercer was in Chicago?”
If he had expected to get a spark out of the Winter tinder by this scraping stroke, he was mistaken; the soldier did not even move his brooding gaze fixed on the hills beyond the house roofs; and he answered in a level tone: “Did you get that story from my aunt, or was it Mrs. Melville? I’m pretty certain you got your biography from that quarter. My aunt might have told her.”
“That would be betraying a lady’s confidence. I’m only a detective, whose business is to pry, but I never go back on the ladies. And I think, same’s you, that the lady in question is a real nice, high-toned lady; but I can’t disregard the evidence. I never give out my system, but I’ve got one, all the same. Look here, see this paper?”—he had replaced the envelope in his pocket; he pulled it out again; or rather, so the colonel fancied, until Birdsall turned the envelope over, revealing it to be blank. “There’s a sheet of paper inside; take it out. Look at the water-mark, look at the pattern; then compare it with this letter”—handing the colonel the original envelope. “Same exactly, ain’t they?”
The colonel, who had studied the two sheets of paper silently, nodded as silently; and he had a premonition of Birdsall’s next sentence before it came. “Well, Mrs. Melville Winter, this morning, took me to Miss Smith’s desk, where we found this and a lot more like it.”