“Come down here, Smiley, and see what you make of this.”
It was not necessary to summon Dick twice. He swung off, hung an instant by his hands, dropped to the floor, and bent with the special agent over what seemed to be the waist and skirt of a gingham dress. The examination grew so interesting that Harper and Wilson came down the ladder and peered over Dick's shoulders.
“You see,” said Beveridge,—“here, wait till I light another match. Take this box, Bert, will you, and keep the light going? You see, it isn't an old dress at all. It's rather new, in fact. Mrs. Lindquist would never have thrown it away—never in the world. Now what in the devil—what's that, Smiley?”
“I didn't say anything. I was just thinking—”
“Well—what?”
“I don't know that I could swear to it, but—you see, you can't tell the color very well in this light.”
“Oh, it's blue, plain enough.”