“I thought it moved!” retorted Graham in a strained voice. “I was afraid of the experiment anyway!”
“And the gloves?”
“Great Scott, Mr. Bernard! I simply tried them on!”
“To give us a better set of your finger-prints? The others, of which I have an impression, will do to hang you!”
Wincing a little, Graham drew his hands together, a movement permitted by his captors, and with two quick twitches pulled off the gloves.
“There! I wanted to see how large they were!” The laugh that accompanied his words obviously cost him an effort. “I don’t know why you’re having all this fun at my expense—”
Bernard’s massive shoulders moved under the impetus of a grim and dreadful chuckle.
“You’re game, Graham!” he said.
Abruptly he turned to Landis.
“Stand guard and don’t let anyone in here,” he said, “while I tell you the history of Harrison’s murder. Suspecting everyone, Landis, I’ve suspected Graham from the first! That suspicion grew steadily until the finger-prints gave me my proof! Now for the facts.”