"And you?"
"I am speaking of Mr. Taggett."
"Well, go on, speak of him," said Richard desperately. "What else has he discovered?"
Mr. Perkins wheeled his chair round until he faced the young man.
"He has discovered in your workshop a chisel with a peculiar break in the edge,--a deep notch in the middle of the bevel. With that chisel Lemuel Shackford was killed."
Richard gave a perceptible start, and put his hand to his head, as if a sudden confused memory had set the temples throbbing.
"A full box of safety matches," continued Mr. Perkins, in a cold, measured voice, as though he were demonstrating a mathematical problem, "contains one hundred matches. Mr. Taggett has discovered a box that contains only ninety-nine. The missing match was used that night in Welch's Court."
Richard stared at him blankly. "What can I say?" he gasped.
"Say nothing to me," returned Lawyer Perkins, hastily thrusting a handful of loose papers into the open throat of the green bag, which he garroted an instant afterwards with a thick black cord. Then he rose flurriedly from the chair. "I shall have to leave you," he said; "I've an appointment at the surrogate's."
And Lawyer Perkins passed stiffly from the apartment.