"No," grunted the detective. He took out a cigar--bit off the end
with a savage snap of teeth--lit it--resumed his pacing.
"You should, sometimes," continued Miss Cornelia, watching his
troubled movements with a faint light of mockery in her eyes. "I
find it very helpful."
"I don't need knitting to think straight," rasped Anderson
indignantly. Miss Cornelia's eyes danced.
"I wonder!" she said with caustic affability. "You seem to have
so much evidence left over."
The detective paused and glared at her helplessly.
"Did you ever hear of the man who took a clock apart--and when he
put it together again, he had enough left over to make another
clock?" she twitted.
The detective, ignoring the taunt, crossed quickly to Dale.
"What do you mean by saying that paper isn't where you put it?"
he demanded in tones of extreme severity. Miss Cornelia replied
for her niece.
"She hasn't said that."
The detective made an impatient movement of his hand and walked
away--as if to get out of the reach of the indefatigable spinster's
tongue. But Miss Cornelia had not finished with him yet, by any
means.
"Do you believe in circumstantial evidence?" she asked him with
seeming ingenuousness.
"It's my business," said the detective stolidly. Miss Cornelia
smiled.
"While you have been investigating," she announced, "I, too, have
not been idle."
The detective gave a barking laugh. She let it pass. "To me,"
she continued, "it is perfectly obvious that one intelligence has
been at work behind many of the things that have occurred in this
house.
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