"I think, Miller," said he, "that I can give you a hint."
"Indeed, sir? And what might that be?"
"It is this: you are after the wrong man."
The superintendent snorted—not a loud snort, for that would have been rude, and no officer could be more polite than Superintendent Miller. But it conveyed a protest which he speedily followed up in words.
"You don't mean to say that the prints on that glass are not the finger-prints of Frank Belfield?"
"I say that those prints were not made by Frank Belfield," Thorndyke replied firmly.
"Do you admit, sir, that the finger-prints on the official form were made by him?"
"I have no doubt that they were."
"Well, sir, Mr. Singleton, of the Finger-print Department, has compared the prints on the glass with those on the form and he says they are identical; and I have examined them and I say they are identical."
"Exactly," said Thorndyke; "and I have examined them and I say they are identical—and that therefore those on the glass cannot have been made by Belfield."
The superintendent snorted again—somewhat louder this time—and gazed at Thorndyke with wrinkled brows.
