"I found absolutely nothing of importance," replied Marsh. It might be splitting hairs, he thought, but it was Morgan who had actually discovered the notebook. "I looked carefully through his dresser," he want on, "and also examined all the papers in the desk."
"And you found nothing of importance, Mr. Marsh?"
"Nothing," replied March, putting as strong a note of positiveness into his voice as possible, for he now began to suspect to whom the notebook had belonged. "The desk contained only personal and a little business correspondence. Morgan and I examined all the signatures. If you looked that correspondence over, as I presume you did, you will acknowledge that no suspicion could be directed at the men whose names appeared there."
Hunt nodded in an absent-minded way and again asked, "Perhaps this man Morgan found something?"
"I would have known if he had," said Marsh, again evasively. "I entered the room with him, and as you know, we left together."
Hunt now seemed satisfied that Marsh had no special information to give him about the contents of Merton's rooms: "Well, tell me just what you have discovered," he said, settling back into a corner of the davenport.
"For one thing," Marsh began, "I know that Mr. Merton is dead."
He leisurely took out his cigarette case, carefully selected a cigarette, and touch a match to it. It was evident, that this act on Marsh's part was intended to give Hunt time in which to think and pass some comment if he cared to. The man remained silent.
"All right, my friend," thought Marsh. "We'll tell you a little more; just enough to make you think—and perhaps act." Then he continued aloud, "I work along somewhat different lines than those followed by the police. For example, I frequently get better results by sitting down quietly in my room, laying certain obvious circumstances before me, and, through what you might call a method of addition, derive an answer to my problem."
"Quite interesting," murmured Hunt.