about, too. There were treasures from Mexico and Peru, from
every romantic bit of the wonderful countries south of us-- blocks of
porphyry with quaint grecques and hieroglyphic painting from Mitla,
copper axes and pottery from Cuzco, sculptured stones and mosaics,
jugs, cups, vases, little gods and great, sacrificial stones, a treasure
house of Aztec and Inca lore--enough to keep one occupied for hours
merely to look at.
Yet, I reflected, following Norton, in all this mass of material, the thief
seemed to have selected one, apparently insignificant, dagger, the thing
which Norton prized because, somehow, it bore on its blade something
which he had not, as yet, been able to fathom.
Though Kennedy looked thoroughly and patiently, it seemed as though
there was nothing there to tell any story of the robbery, and he turned
his attention at last to other parts of the Museum. As he made his way
about slowly, I noted that he was looking particularly into corners,
behind cabinets, around angles. What he expected to find I could not
even guess.
Further along and on the same side of the building we came to the
section devoted to Egyptology. Kennedy paused. Standing there,
upright against the wall, was a mummy case. To me, even now, the
thing had a creepy look. Craig pushed aside the stone lid irreverently
and gazed keenly into the uncanny depths of the stone sarcophagus. An
instant later he was down on his hands and knees, carefully examining
the interior by means of a pocket lens.
"I think I have made a start," he remarked, rising to his feet and facing
us with an air of satisfaction.
We said nothing, and he pointed to some almost undiscernible marks in
a thin layer of dust that had collected in the sarcophagus.
"If I'm not mistaken," he went on, "your thief got into the Museum
during the daytime, and, when no one was looking, hid here. He must
have stayed until the place was locked up at night. Then he could rob at
his leisure, only taking care to confine his operations to the time
between the rather infrequent rounds of the night watchman."
Kennedy bent down again. "Look," he indicated. "There are the marks
of shoes in the dust, shoes with nails in the heels, of course. I shall have
to compare the marks that I have found here with those I have collected,
following out the method of the immortal Bertillon. Every make of
shoes has its own peculiarities, both in the number and the arrangement
of the nails. Offhand, however, I should say that these shoes were
American-made--though that, of course, does not necessarily mean that
an American wore them. I may even be able to determine which of a
number of individual pairs of shoes made the marks. I cannot tell that
yet, until I study them. Walter, I wish you'd go over to my laboratory.
In the second right-hand drawer of my desk you'll find a package of
paper. I'd like to have it."
"Don't you think you ought to preserve the marks?" I heard Norton hint,
as I left. He had been watching Kennedy in open-eyed amazement and
interest.
"Exactly what I am sending Walter to do," he returned. "I have some
specially prepared paper that will take those dust marks up and give me
a perfect replica."
I hurried back as fast as I could, and Kennedy bent to the task of
preserving the marks.
"Have you any idea who might have an object in stealing the dagger?"
Kennedy asked, when he had finished.
Norton shrugged his shoulders. "I believe some weird superstitions
were connected with it," he replied. "It had a three-sided blade, and, as
I told you, both the blade and the hilt were covered with peculiar
markings."
There seemed to be nothing more that could be discovered from a
further examination of the Museum. It was plain enough that the thief
must have let himself out of a side door which had a spring lock on it
and closed itself. Not a mark or scratch was to be found on any of the
window or door locks; nothing else seemed to have been disturbed.
Evidently the thief had been after that one, to him priceless, object.
Having got it, he was content to get away, leaving untouched the other
treasures, some of which were even intrinsically valuable for the metal
and precious stones in them. The whole affair seemed so strange to me,
however, that, somehow, I could not help wondering whether Norton
had told us the whole or only half the story as he knew it about the
dagger and its history.
Still talking with the archaeologist, Kennedy and I returned to his
laboratory.
We had scarcely reached the door when we heard the
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