"Good work." He turned the wig over and over in his hands, carefully examined it under a microscope, and then tossed it back on the desk.
"There aren't so many wigs sold that one can't trace them," he observed. "This happens to be made by a small company that doesn't turn out a great many wigs in a year. It's a sort of side line with them."
"How can you tell?"
"There's a little mark on the inside that distinguishes the manufacturer. Just a trademark—hardly noticeable."
"And we found these as well," said Frank, handing over the coat and hat.
Mr. Hardy's eyes opened wide.
"Well, well!" he exclaimed. "You have been busy, haven't you?"
"They were all hidden in the same place."
"And well hidden, too, I'll warrant."
"We were sure there must be clues of some kind around that car, so we searched every inch of the woods roundabout."
"Good!" said Mr. Hardy approvingly. "You didn't miss any chances. I'm not saying these clues will lead to the capture of the fellow, but they will go a long way toward finding him."
"What should we do with them?"
Mr. Hardy looked up at his sons and smiled.
"Well, you've shared your clues with me, so
