Suddenly he crossed the room, replaced the arquebus on its nail and returned to the workbench. Carelessly flung down at one end of it lay a pair of doeskin gloves. Bernard picked them up and examined them. The finger-tips were worn smooth and polished. The soft leather at the wrist of each glove was torn just below the thumb. The tears were quite recent. Bernard hesitated, stuffed the gloves into his pocket and touched Landis on the arm.
“Come on out of this!” he said.
Highly intrigued, Landis followed him through the bathroom, again apologized to Miss Mount and joined his older companion in the hall.
“What’s the idea?” he asked in a whisper.
“We’re getting warm! These gloves were torn recently, by hands too big for them! The man who handled the cross-bow and the Japanese bow wore gloves! We’re getting warm, Landis!”
“I’ve been hot under the collar for some time,” said Landis dubiously. “Which did he handle?”
“Both! He planted the Japanese bow and used Japanese arrows to fool us. He shot Harrison with the cross-bow!”
“From where?”
“From the library door!”
“Who did?”