Monsieur Rouletabille; logic will upset you if you use it indiscriminately. You are right, when you say that Mademoiselle Stangerson fired her revolver, but you are wrong when you say that she wounded the murderer in the hand."
"I am sure of it," cried Rouletabille.
Fred, imperturbable, interrupted him:—
"Defective observation—defective observation!—the examination of the handkerchief, the numberless little round scarlet stains, the impression of drops which I found in the tracks of the footprints, at the moment when they were made on the floor, prove to me that the murderer was not wounded at all. Monsieur Rouletabille, the murderer bled at the nose!"
The great Fred spoke quite seriously. However, I could not refrain from uttering an exclamation.
The reporter looked gravely at Fred, who looked gravely at him. And Fred immediately concluded:
"The man allowed the blood to flow into his hand and handkerchief, and dried his hand on the wall. The fact is highly important," he added, "because there is no need of his being wounded in the hand for him to be the murderer."
Rouletabille seemed to be thinking deeply. After a moment he said:—
"There is something—a something, Monsieur Frédéric Larsan, much graver than the misuse of logic—the disposition of mind in some detectives which makes them, in perfect good faith, twist logic to the necessities of their preconceived ideas.
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