The Paternoster Ruby | Page 9

to the
object of interest itself.
"If you were carrying it while the candle was lighted," I said, "your
thumb would be uppermost, and your little finger nearest the
base--would n't they?"
"Naturally."
"Very well. Suppose, now, I reverse my grasp--my thumb toward the
base, the little finger toward the top--I now have it in a pretty effective
position for use as a bludgeon, eh?"
He was following me intently, and now nodded his head in token of
comprehension.
"Look at those drippings," I went on; "the hand that last grasped the
candlestick did not try to avoid them, although they were yet soft and

warm from the flame. It does n't require a trained eye to determine that
the thumb was nearest the base."
"I declare!" he wonderingly interrupted. "Blest if you 're not right,
Swift. The candle was burning when somebody grabbed it up for use as
a club. Whoever it was he caught hold of it with a pretty firm grip."
"An additional argument," I added, "that it was put to some violent use.
It is n't necessary to hold it anything near so tight merely to carry it.
"However," I pursued, "the circumstance is in a way unfortunate. While
I can gather the idea that the hand was n't inured to hard labor, and that
it was a rather long and slender one, it closed so powerfully upon the
drippings that the pattern of little lines--the vermiculations which
differentiate one man's hand from everybody else's--is merely a blur.
As a wax impression of the murderer's hand it is not a success."
My audience seemed to be immensely interested.
But I was not yet through with the wax impression.
"One peculiarity is suggested, though: this is unmistakably the impress
of a right hand, and the owner of the hand wore a broad ring on the
second finger--an unusual place for a man to sport that sort of jewelry."
The third finger of Maillot's left hand was adorned with a modest signet
ring, while the private secretary's abnormally long, bloodless digits
bore no sign that they had ever been encircled by any ring at all.
The situation was serious enough, however; the imprint which I
assumed to have been made by a ring was so blurred as to leave wide
latitude for error respecting any deduction that I might make from it.
I gravely regarded young Maillot, and tried to picture him to myself in
the role of a murderer, but was obliged to own that such a thing was
exceedingly difficult to do. Still, all things are possible; and the next
few minutes had to determine whether I should take him or Burke into
custody--maybe both--or permit them to go about their business.

"Mr. Maillot," I said by and by, "I 'll tell you frankly: this business
looks pretty bad for you and Burke--unless between you you can help
me to place it in an entirely different light."
He paled, but met my level look steadily enough.
As I have already said, he was a good-looking chap, dark of hair, his
eyes gray, and he possessed an honest, open countenance that stood a
whole lot in his favor. He was tall, with a well-knit, athletic figure that
made me fancy he had been an heroic member of his university football
team.
But I have known just such men--steady, upright and governed by high
standards of conduct--to become in the twinkling of an eye red-handed
assassins.
Your man of lofty ideas and honor, in truth, is the more deeply sensible
of injury and sometimes the easiest incensed. He is the more keenly
hurt when his most sacred feelings are suddenly outraged. Finish off his
equipment with a hot, passionate temper, and his resentment is likely to
strike as blindly and as effectively as a bolt from a surcharged
thunder-cloud. It is the motive that either palliates or makes the crime.
A moment's previous reflection often stays the hand from a deed which
a lifetime of after regret can not recall.
I could associate these possibilities with Maillot, and yet extend to him
my sympathy; for controlling impulses are infinitely various and
sometimes not to be held to account.
And so, too, could I have done with Burke, if he had betrayed one trait
of a nature to inspire sympathy or engage my goodwill. Still, I meant
not to be in the least influenced by my own feelings in the matter, nor
do I now believe that I was; I determined to be as just and impartial as
possible. Bear in mind that, as yet, I had been given no hint of possible
motive.
After a bit Maillot said very soberly:

"The possibility of such a thing never for instant occurred to me;
but--Swift--I suppose must meet it somehow."
"You 're beginning