{ { di|I'M telling you all these facts,” continued Haggerty, “so you won't waste any time getting down t' cases. Every move you've made for th' last six months is jotted down in a little book in my pocket. All I want,” he added, taking out a small India-ink pad and a square of white paper, “all I want is an impression of your thumbs. After that, why, we can talk. Do you object?”
“Not in the least,” said Crawford readily. “I'm very anxious to know what all this damned nonsense means.”
He angrily dabbed both thumbs upon the pad and printed them upon the square of paper. Through a glass Haggerty very carefully compared the impression with the treasured photograph. His brows bent All this work for nothing. Haggerty was bitterly disappointed. The thumb-prints were identical in none of the essential details. And yet the trail ended in this house....
“Mason!” exclaimed Crawford.
Haggerty dashed to the window, out of it and down the fire-escape. He had the Irishman's inborn courage and pride of strength. He never used powder when he could use his hands. Only the murderer, fleeing, knew the deadly accuracy of his aim. Then he was better dead than alive; out of reach of the bullyragging attorneys, doddering insanity experts, tender judges and purblind juries. Haggerty wanted Mr. Mason alive. It was a matter of pride, aside from the seven thousand dollars in rewards.
Crawford, Forbes and the girl pressed about the window; but all they saw was Haggerty, vanishing out of the alley-way. They waited, tense with excitement. Only Forbes knew what it was about, but it never occurred to him to explain.
Pistol-shots. It was only an official warning for policemen in the vicinity to be on the lookout for a running man, any one who looked suspicious.
The trio remained by the window for a full quarter of an hour, without exchanging a word, scarcely moving. Presently they saw Haggerty enter the alley-way. He climbed the fire-escape and stepped into the room. He wore a saturnine expression.
“Well, he slipped me; but that's nothing. He'll never get out of th' city. But I'm an ornament t' th' office. For six months I've been so interested in watching you that I never gave anybody else a thought.”
“What has he done?” cried Crawford. “Why, the man has been with me for ten years, constantly, faithful as a dog. Twice in Mesopotamia he saved my life. What the deuce will I do without him?”
“He's th' man who stole th' Armitage emeralds, th' Hollister pearls, an' th' Morris rubies.”
Crawford made a despairing gesture. It was so incomprehensible. “What proof have you?”
Haggerty dryly indicated the window. “He saw what was coming. He knew that if I wasn't satisfied with your thumb-prints, I might think of his.”
“Good God!” Crawford struck his forehead. “And I am the cause of it!”
“Huh?” said Haggerty startled.
Crawford pointed toward the safes.
Haggerty nodded appreciatively, ran his glance over the safes, and nodded again. “If a man could only see two ways at once!” he mourned, half humorously, half seriously.
“He was mad!”
“Mebbe. But listen here. At th' Armitage case there was a thumb-print on an idol; at th' Hollister's, on a piece o' jade; at th' Morris's, on a minachure. You gave a mummy t' th' museum. On th' head-piece I accidentally discovered th' same print. Th' guy that did all this fine work was fond o' queer things. Th' thumb-print on th' mummy-case wiped out everybody but you. An' when I learned th' way you yegged safes for th' fun o' th' thing, why, I thought all I had t' do was t' put th' darbies on you an' motor to klink. But th' rest of you didn't fit in, somehow. You had me guessing. Why, I found out that your banker has a pay-roll of three thousand a month that you give away t' th' poor. All this mystery about detectives is bosh. There ain't any mystery; it's only addition an' subtraction. Well, I couldn't add th' theft an' th' safe-blowing an' that pay-roll, an' get th' sum I needed. I held off th' thumb-print till now, an' there's where I fall down.”
“My fault! Why, I am almost as guilty as he is. He used to watch me most carefully whenever I opened a safe in sport.”
“Sure, he did. An' say, take it from me, Mr. Crawford, he had a good teacher. There ain't a yegg in th' country who can do it neater than you; only it's amateurish. I mean, you didn't use any of th' stuff used by th' professionals. Say! I've a mind t' run you in an' lock you up as it is. Some o' these smooth ones'll be kidnaping you an' making you do th' work.” Haggerty smiled, but his heart was heavy. Seven thousand gone to glory.
The girl reached secretly for Crawford's hand and pressed it. To her all this was only a prologue.