faces beside
him should retain their familiar lines.

Against the back-board of the bureau, where it would fit neatly when the
drawer was in place, lay a plaster cast of a footmark. Near by was a
rumpled handkerchief that Bobby recognized as his own, and the envelope,
containing Howells's report which they had told Jenkins to hide.

"Well?" Robinson grinned.

"I swear I didn't know they were there," Bobby answered. "You'll never
make me believe that Katherine knows it."

"I've guessed," Rawlins said, "that the stuff was hidden here ever since
this afternoon when I saw a small bundle sneaked in."

"Who brought it?" Bobby took him up.

Robinson's grin expanded.

"Leave us one or two surprises to spring in court."

"Then," Bobby said, "my cousin wasn't in the room when this evidence was
brought here."

"I'll admit that," Rawlins answered, "but she wasn't far away, and she
got here before I could investigate, and she's kept the door locked ever
since until just now."

He lifted the exhibits out. The shape of the cast, the monogram on the
handkerchief cried out their testimony.

Robinson grasped Howells's report and glanced over the fine handwriting.
After a time he looked up.

"There's the case against you, Mr. Blackburn, and at the least your
cousin's an accessory. But why the devil did you come to me and make a
clean breast of it?"

"Because," Bobby cried, "I didn't know anything about these things being
here. Can't you see that?"

"That's the trouble," Robinson answered uncertainly, "I think I do see
it."

"Besides," Graham said, "you're still without the instrument that
caused death."

"I expect to land it in this room," Rawlins answered grimly.

He replaced the drawer and continued to fumble among the clothing it
contained. All at once he called out and raised his hand. On the
forefinger a tiny red stain showed.

"How did you do that?" Robinson asked.

"Something pricked me," the detective answered. "Maybe it was only a pin,
but it might have been--"

Excitedly he resumed his search. He took the clothing from the drawer and
threw it to one side. Nothing remained in the drawer.

"I guess it must have been a pin," Robinson said, disappointed.

But Rawlins took up each article of clothing and examined it minutely.
His face brightened.

"Here's something stiff. By gad, I believe I've got it!"

Concealed in a woollen sack, with the slender shaft thrust through and
through the folds, was a pe