“You don’t mean to say that the prints on that glass are not the finger-prints of Frank Belfield?”
“I say that those prints were not made by Frank Belfield,” Thorndyke replied firmly.
“Do you admit, sir, that the finger-prints on the official form were made by him?”
“I have no doubt that they were.”
“Well, sir, Mr. Singleton, of the Finger-print Department, has compared the prints on the glass with those on the form and he says they are identical; and I have examined them and I say they are identical.”
“Exactly,” said Thorndyke; “and I have examined them and I say they are identical—and that therefore those on the glass cannot have been made by Belfield.”
The Superintendent Snorted again—somewhat louder this time—and gazed at Thorndyke with wrinkled brows.
“You are not pulling my leg, I suppose, sir?” he asked, a little sourly.
“I should as soon think of tickling a porcupine,” Thorndyke answered, with a suave smile.
“Well,” rejoined the bewildered detective, “if I didn’t know you, sir, I should say you were talking confounded nonsense. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind explaining what you mean.”