The Voice in the Fog

From garret to cellar, thirty rooms in all; nothing but the hand-print

on the newel-post and the opened trunk. Haggerty returned to the

museum, turned out all the lights except that on the desk, and sat down

on a rug so as not to disturb the dust on the chairs. The man might

return. It was certain that he, Haggerty, would come back on the

morrow. He was anxious to compare the thumb-print with the one he had

in his collection.

For what had the man come? Keep-sakes? Haggerty dearly wanted to

believe that the intruder was the one man he desired in his net; but he

refused to listen to the insidious whisperings; he must have proof,

positive, absolute, incontestable. If it was Crawford's man Mason, it

was almost too good to be true; and he did not care to court ultimate

disappointment.

Proof, proof; but where? Why had the man not returned the clothes to

the trunk and shut it? What had alarmed him? Everything else

indicated the utmost caution. . . . A glint of light flashing and

winking from steel. Haggerty rose and went over to the window. He

picked up a bunch of keys, thirty or forty in all, on a ring, weighing

a good pound. The detective touched the throbbing bump and sensed a

moisture; blood. So this was the weapon? He weighed the keys on his

palm. A long time since he had seen a finer collection of skeleton

keys, thin and flat and thick and short, smooth and notched, each a gem

of its kind. Three or four ordinary keys were sandwiched in between,

and Haggerty inspected these curiously.

"H'm. Mebbe it's a hunch. Anyhow, I'll try it. Can't lose anything

trying."

He turned out the desk light and went down to the lower hall, his

pocket-lamp serving as guide. He unlatched the heavy door-chains,

opened the doors and closed them behind him. He inserted one of the

ordinary keys. It refused to work. He tried another. The door swung

open, easily.

"Now, then, come down out o' that!" growled a voice at the foot of the

steps. "Thought y'd be comin' out by-'n-by. No foolin' now, 'r I blow

a hole through ye!"

Haggerty wheeled quickly. "'S that you, Dorgan? Come up."

"Haggerty?" said the astonished patrolman. "An' Mitchell an' I've been

watchin' these lights fer an hour!"

"Some one's been here, though; so y' weren't wasting your time. I

climbed up th' fire-escape in th' alley an' got a nice biff on th' coco

for me pains. See any one running before y' saw th' lights?"