"What do I think of it?" he repeated, with flashing eyes. "I think
there are features to this case I don't like!"

"Could it have been an accident, Chief? You might of got a bit of soot
from the gun and then scratched your neck. Maybe that Harry Nichols put
one over on us. The gun might have been fired, reloaded, and we never
noticed it. Looks bad for Nichols and the girl."

Drew closed his eyelids tightly. His brow furrowed in deep thought.
"No," he said finally. "I don't think the soot or powder came from the
pearl-handled revolver. I don't think so! It would seem to me, Delaney,
that intuition is stronger than evidence. That girl and that boy rang
true. That valet is above suspicion. The servants are to be trusted.
Stockbridge trusted them and he was noted for his shrewdness in picking
men. The only mistake he ever made was Morphy. That individual was out
to do the old man. He was a biter, bitten! I think we'll eliminate, for
the time, Loris, Harry, the servants and German influences in the
matter at hand. What was your idea?" Drew rubbed his neck beneath his
ear, as he turned to his papers.

"I've forgotten it, Chief. That spot drove it all out. No, wait--say!
I've been thinking--this morning laying there and listening to the kids
getting ready for school--that the powder we smelled in the library
wasn't ordinary powder. I know a firecracker, or a regular Chinese
smell when I get near one. That wasn't the kind I got. It was like
something else. It was powder--all right--but----"

Drew lifted a sheet of paper. "I covered that," he said. "Analysis made
by Higgens, this morning, shows traces of smokeless-powder in
Stockbridge's hair and about the bullet hole. There's a difference.
Now, I'm going further than that. I'm going to have those scrapings I
got from my neck looked at. If they are the same as the powder that was
used to slay Stockbridge, we are getting on."

"There's lots of smokeless, Chief."

"That's the trouble--that's what we are right up against. Let's leave
the footprints and the powder for a few minutes. Both are important.
They'll wait. See here!"

Drew raised a sheath of papers from his desk, turned with the chair,
and started thumbing over the data he had accumulated.

"See here," he repeated absently. "First branch of the tree of Truth in
this case is a stubborn one. It requires considerable work on our part
to get to the end of it. I've sent out six operatives to scout the
telephone calls