"Not yet; I'm goin' there right now," replied Rube. "Keep Isa Blagg back, or he'll only get trampin' out the signs with them heavy boots of his. Just let me go alone—see?"
"Right," said Kiddie; "go ahead."
Rube found an empty packing-case against the boards under the window. He mounted on top of it, and examined the window sash and the broken pane of glass, by means of which the catch of the window had been opened. There were finger-marks on the glass, but these did not help him, since he did not yet know what kind of marks Nick Undrell's fingers might have left. What engaged his especial attention was one of the sharp points of splintered glass. He jumped down, and went back to where Kiddie and the sheriff waited.
"Either of you happen ter recollect what kind of a vest or shirt Nick Undrell wears?" he inquired. "Red, ain't it?"
Kiddie shook his head.
"Never saw Nick with red shirt-sleeves," he responded.
"Nor I," added the sheriff. "If you'd said yaller now——"
"Yes," resumed Kiddie; "yellow with black stripes, like a wasp, or an English football player."
"Come along o' me," said Rube.
And he led them both to the window, and pointed up at the broken glass.