“Guess you’re right. But say!” Drew exclaimed. “What did you get from the car, the one the Red Rover was snatched from?”
“A bed sheet.” Howe held it up.
“Marked?”
“Not a mark.”
“Then what—?” Drew stared at his partner.
“Some one had stepped on the bed, probably with his shoe on. I thought I’d try the ultra-violet ray on it. Surprising what it brings out sometimes.”
“Probably worth a try.” Drew was not enthusiastic. Howe had gone in for scientific crime detection lately. Drew was still for going out and getting his man.
“Howe,” he demanded after a moment of silence, “who fired that shot back there in the train yards?”
“You answer that. A hand was all I saw, a hand thrust out from behind a car. Fired point-blank at me. And missed.”
“This may be the bullet,” Drew mused, weighing the battered bullet from the mystery envelope in his hand.