"Oh, no. I was just interested, as Singa Phut was one concerned in Mrs. Darcy's murder."

"But he hadn't any more to do with it, Colonel, than that cat!" and Carroll pointed to the headquarters cat which was sleeping near a radiator, for the day had turned cold and steam was on in the place.

"Perhaps not," admitted Colonel Ashley. "But there are some peculiar coincidences and, if you don't mind, I'd like to see what I can find out about them."

"Go as far as you like, Colonel," returned Thong, needlessly generous.

"We've got our man, and that's all we want. The other isn't our case.

Oh, Donovan!" he called, as he saw a fellow sleuth pa.s.sing through an outer room. "Here's some one to see you," and the presentation was quickly and informally made. The two men had seen each other before, but had not spoken.

"Glad to know you, Colonel Ashley," said Donovan. "I've read a lot about you. You're on the Darcy case, they tell me."

"In a way, yes. I'm working in the interests of the young man. But I hear you have another murder."

"Yes, but it's so plain there's no interest in it for you. All we want to do--Pinkus and me--is to lay our hands on the Dago that done it and got away. We'll get him, too, before many days. He's the kind of a feller that can't hide very well, unless he goes and kills himself, and he may do that."

"How did it happen? And is there any truth in the newspaper story about the same watch that was found in Mrs. Darcy's hand being found in the hand of the dead man?"

"Yes, that part's true enough, but that's all there is to it. It's just one of them coincidences like. Singa Phut got back his watch after the prosecutor decided he didn't need it for evidence. There wasn't nothing that Singa had to do with the Darcy case anyhow, and he seemed awful anxious to get back that watch. So it was turned over to him."

"But did he really kill his partner?"

"Surest thing you know. Busted his head in with a heavy candlestick--one of a pair. I've got 'em here, look," and, opening a closet where he temporarily kept his collection of evidence, Donovan took out a pair of heavy bronze candlesticks, in the form of hooded cobras.

"That's the one that did the business," said the headquarters detective, showing one candlestick with something dark and unpleasant on the heavier end.

"Gad!" exclaimed the colonel. "The very pair I was going to buy!"

"What! You buy?" cried Donovan. "Look here, Colonel! do you know anything about this?" and the detective's professional instincts got the upper hand of his friendliness.

"Not the least in the world--not as much as you do," was the cool answer. "I happened to see those candlesticks in the window of Singa Phut's shop the other day, and I made up my mind to buy them when I had a chance. Now, I'm afraid I won't. But how did it happen?"

"Oh, well, there isn't much of a story to it," and Donovan's voice showed his disappointment. "Phut--I don't know whether that's his first or his last name--anyhow, he had a partner named Shere Ali. No one knows much about Ali, for he came here just recently. Anyhow, he and Phut didn't get along very well it seems.

"Neighbors often heard 'em sc.r.a.ppin' a lot, and this afternoon they went at it again hot and heavy. Then things quieted down, and n.o.body heard anything more. Toward dark a man went in to buy a lamp. He found the place without a light in it, stumbled over something on the floor, and there was Ali's body, with the head busted in and this heavy candlestick near it.

"He raised the howl right off, and Pinkus and I got there as soon as we could. Of course Phut was gone. But we'll get him!"

"Then you think he did it?"

"Sure he did! Who else?"

"And the watch was in Ali's hand?"

"Sure! Held so tight we could hardly get it out. In fact it was so tight that he's cut his palm grabbin' hold of it. Maybe the fight was about who owned the watch, for the Dagos talked in their foreign lingo and none of the neighbors could tell what they were sayin'."

"I see. And the watch? Have you it?"

"Yes, it's here. Going yet, too. Hear it tick?" and Donovan held open the door of his closet. From the place, in which hung odd coats, caps and other garments, and from the shelf on which was a collection of gruesome weapons, came an insistent ticking.

"That's the watch," announced the headquarters detective, reaching in for it. "Going yet--see?" and he held it out to Colonel Ashley.

Somewhat to the surprise of Donovan the military detective accepted the timepiece on his open palm, and so gingerly that it caused Donovan to remark:

"You're not as squeamish as all that, are you? Just because it was in a dead man's hand--and in a woman's?"

"Oh, not at all," was the quick answer. "But, as a matter of fact these East Indians are often carriers of bubonic plague, you know, and it's very contagious. Of course neither Shere Ali nor Singa Phut may have had the germs about them, but I am a bit squeamish when it comes to contagious diseases of that nature, and I wouldn't like to scratch myself on that watch."

"Scratch yourself--on a watch?" and Donovan's voice was plainly skeptical.

"Yes. It may have some rough edges on it. And I've read enough about germs to know the danger. I'd advise you to be careful!"

"Ha!" laughed Donovan shortly. "I should worry about that! The watch don't figure in the case, except maybe they quarreled over who owned it."

Colonel Ashley said nothing. He was carefully examining the watch, which he still held in the palm of the hand--holding it as carefully as though indeed it might be laden with germs the least touch of which against a tiny scratch might produce death.

"Quite a curiosity," said the colonel at length. "If you don't mind, I should like to examine this a bit."

"You can't take it away," said Donovan. "I may need it as evidence when we get Mr. Phut, or whatever the Dago's name is."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't think of taking it away. I'll look at it here.

It seems to be a very old timepiece--one of the first made smaller than the old 'Nuremberg eggs I fancy. Quite an interesting study--watches--Donovan. Ever take it up?" and as the colonel questioned he was looking at the Indian timepiece under a magnifying gla.s.s he took from his pocket.

"Who? Me study watches? I should say not! It keeps me busy enough here without that."

"Yes," went on the colonel musingly. "This is an old-timer. The first watches, you know, Donovan, were really small clocks, and some were so much like clocks that the folks who carried them had to hang them to their belts instead of carrying them in their pockets. That was away back in the fifteenth century."

"Before the Big Wind in Ireland," suggested Thong with a nod at his Irish compatriot.

"Slightly," laughed the colonel. "But, all joking aside, this is quite a wonderful piece of work. I shouldn't be surprised but what it dated back to the time of Queen Elizabeth, though it has been repaired and remodeled since then to make it more up to date. Probably new works put in. Queen Elizabeth was very fond of watches and clocks, and her friends, knowing that, used to present her with beautiful specimens.

Some of the watches of her day were made in the form of crosses, purses, little books, and even skulls."

"Pity this one wasn't made that way--like a skull," mused Carroll, "seeing it's been in on two deaths here and no one knows how many somewhere else."

"That's right," agreed the colonel, as he continued to move his magnifying gla.s.s over the surface of the still ticking watch. And a close observer might have observed that he did not touch his bare fingers to the timepiece, but poked it about, and touched it here and there, with the end of a leadpencil.

"Very interesting," observed the colonel, as he pa.s.sed the watch back to Donovan, still using only the flat, open palm of his hand on which to rest it. "Very interesting. And, Donovan, take a friend's advice and don't be too free with that watch."

"Too free with it?" asked the surprised detective.

"Yes. Don't scratch yourself on it, whatever you do."

"Why not? Not that I'm likely to, for I never heard of being scratched by a watch, but why not?"

"Simply because this watch--"

But at that moment the doorman of police headquarters stuck his head in "Scotland Yard," as the patrolmen designated the inner sanctum where the detectives had their rooms, and called:

"Donovan!"