"But,"protested Pendleton, "why did he not put it into words? Surely it would have been much easier?"
"Not for this particular person. As it happens, he was a mute."
Again Pendleton's eyes opened widely; then recollection came to him and he said:
"It was Locke—the man concerning whom you were making inquiries of the railroad conductor!"
Ashton-Kirk nodded, and replied.
"And it was he who shrieked when the door of the showroom opened. The out-cry of a deaf-mute, if you have ever heard one, has the same squawking, senseless sound as that of a psittaceous bird like the parrot or cockatoo."
"But,"said Pendleton, "the fact that the man who scrawled these signs upon the step was a deaf-mute, scarcely justifies the eccentricity of the thing. Why did he not use a pencil, as you have done?"
"I can't say exactly, of course. But did it never happen that you were without a pencil at a time when you needed one rather urgently?"
"This thing has sort of knocked me off my balance, I suppose,"said Pendleton, rather bewildered. "Don't expect too much of me, Kirk."He stuffed his hands in his pockets dejectedly and continued: "You now tell me that this man was a mute. Yesterday you said he was small, that he was near-sighted, that he was well dressed and knew something of the modern German dramatists. You also told the conductor that he wore thick glasses and a silk hat. Now, I suppose I'm all kinds of an idiot for not understanding how you know these things about a man you never saw. But I confess it candidly; I don't understand."
"It all belongs to my method of work,"said Ashton-Kirk. "It's simple enough when you go about it the right way. I have already given you my reasons for thinking the man who did this,"pointing to the step, "to be a mute. I judged that he was of small stature because he chose the bottom step upon which to trace his word signs. Even an ordinary sized man would have selected one higher up."
"All right,"said Pendleton. "That looks good to me, so far."
"The deductions that he was well dressed and also near-sighted were from the one source. His hat fell off while he was tracing the signs; that showed me that he was forced to stoop very close to his work in order to see what he was about. You see that, don't you?"
"How did you know his hat fell off?"asked Pendleton, incredulously.
"Mrs. Dwyer is evidently paid to clean only the hall and lower stairway,"replied Ashton-Kirk, composedly. "And that she sticks closely to that arrangement is shown by the condition of this upper flight. The dust upon the step is rather thick. If you will notice,"and he indicated a place on the second step, "here is a spot where a round, flat object rested. That this object was a silk hat is positive. You can see the sharp impress of the nap in the dust; here is the curl in the exact center of the crown as seen in silk hats only. And men who wear silk hats are usually well-dressed men."
"But how can you be at all sure that the hat fell off? Isn't it possible that he took it off and laid it there?"
"Possible—yes—but scarcely probable. A well-dressed man is so from instinct. And his instinctive neatness would hardly permit him to put his well-kept hat down in the dust."
"Go on,"said Pendleton.
"The stairs have been used since the hat fell there; but the dust has not been disturbed. There is a hand-rail on the other side of the flight, and consequently, all went up and down on that side."
"I can understand the thick glasses,"said Pendleton, "his being near-sighted suggested those. But what made you think he cared for the modern German dramatists?"
"That was a hazard, merely,"and the investigator laughed.
"He knew German and was apparently a man of intelligence. No man who combines these two things can fail of admiration of Hauptmann, Sudermann and their brothers of the pen. And then a mute who knew shorthand well enough to have such ready recourse to it, struck me as being unusual. They all know the digital sign language; but German and phonography classed him as one above the ordinary. This knowledge brought the suggestion of an institution. Then came the suggestion that he might be an instructor in such an institution. The fragment from the railroad ticket hinted that the institution might be out of town. Fuller's research placed two such institutions. The ticket counter at the railroad office narrowed it down to one. The conductor of the train all but put his hand on the man."
There was a short silence. Then Pendleton drew a long breath.
"Well, Kirk,"said he. "I don't mind admitting that you have me winging. I'll tell you now it's clever; but if I can think of a stronger word later, I'll work it in instead."
"We have a pretty positive line on one of the criminals, and we will now turn to the other,"said the investigator, briskly. "It was this other who committed the murder. The infirmities of Locke, the mute, made it impossible for him to venture into the rooms. The risks for a deaf and short-sighted man would be too great. Danger might creep upon him and he neither hear nor see it. For some reason which I have not yet discovered, but it may have been distrust, he had not informed his confederate as to the whereabouts of the object of their entrance. When they got as far as this hall, he concluded to do so; but as neither man had a pencil, he conveyed the information as shown; then the confederate entered Hume's apartments by the door which Mrs. Dwyer found open. This, by an oversight, may have been left unlocked, or the criminals may have had a key. However, that does not affect the case one way or another.
"It is my opinion that Hume was seated at his desk at this time and heard the intruder enter the storage room; then pushing back his chair as we saw it, he arose. The criminal, however, sprang upon and struck him so expertly that he collapsed without a sound. Then the bayonet came into play.
"A search followed for the thing desired—a search, short, sharp and savage. The murderer either found what he sought, or the footsteps of Miss Vale upon the stairs frightened him. At any rate he pulled open the showroom door—the one with the gong; Locke, still in the hall, screamed and both fled up these stairs to the roof and away."
Pendleton had waited patiently until his friend finished. Then he said, with a twinkle in his eye:
"You say the murderer opened the show room door, the gong rang and then Locke screamed. Now, old chap, that's not possible. If Locke is deaf, he couldn't hear the gong; and so there would be no occasion for him to cry out."
"I think if you'll go back over what I've really said,"spoke Ashton-Kirk, "you will find that I have made no mention of Locke crying out because of the gong. I said the murderer opened the door that has the gong. Then Locke screamed, not because he heard anything, but because of the sight he saw."
"Ah!"
"He caught a glimpse of Hume upon the floor—as we saw him."
"You think, then, that Locke's intentions were not murder?"
"At the present time I am led to think so. The confederate either was forced to kill to save himself, or he had nursed a private scheme of revenge. And the ferocity of the blow with the bayonet inclines me to prefer the latter as a theory."
"That brings us back to both Morris and Spatola,"said Pendleton, gravely. "By all accounts both bore Hume a bitter grudge. But the fact that both criminals escaped by the roof shows familiarity with the neighborhood, as Miss Vale pointed out to you. This seems to point to Spatola."
"So does the purchase of the bayonet, and in the same indefinite fashion,"said Ashton-Kirk. "But come, we motored to Christie Place more to inquire about this same Italian than anything else. So let's set about it."
They thanked the policeman in charge and left the building. As they proceeded down the street toward the house in which the newspapers had informed them Spatola lived, the investigator paused suddenly.
"I think,"said he, "it would be best for us to first see Spatola himself, and ask a few questions. This might give us the