Mr. Morrice gave his permission for the detective’s visit more readily than Rosabelle had hoped. His attitude towards young Croxton now seemed to be more one of sorrow and disappointment than of the deep anger he had at first displayed. But he expressed to her his sense of the futility of the task on which she was engaged. She thought she knew what was passing in his keen and analytical mind. Croxton was playing a game of bluff, perhaps for the purpose of establishing himself firmly in the esteem of his sweetheart. And if the finger-marks were those of somebody else, he would fall back on the theory that Gideon Lane had already anticipated. With Richard, her task was easy. He gave an impression of his fingers without a moment’s hesitation, and Rosabelle carried it to Lane with a certain sense of triumph, which would have been complete but for those last damping words of the cautious detective. In due course the visit was paid to the house in Deanery Street; Rosabelle and her uncle were present. Sure enough in addition to the recent finger-prints of Morrice and young Croxton, there was a third set, equally recent. The development of the photographs proved that Croxton’s finger-prints were totally different from the third set. Lane announced his intention of taking them to Scotland Yard in order that a search might be made amongst their voluminous files. His investigations on this subject completed, Lane dispatched a brief telegram to Rosabelle asking her to call at his office. A few minutes after its receipt, she was seated in his room feverishly awaiting his news. “It promises to be a deeper mystery than I thought, Miss Sheldon. There has been some very clever and deeply thought-out work here. I have identified the finger-prints, they are those of a well-known professional thief named Thomas, known amongst his confederates as ‘Tubby’ Thomas. He is an expert safe-breaker, the cleverest in England.” The girl’s eyes sparkled. “An expert safe-breaker!” she repeated joyfully. “Does one want to pursue the inquiry any further? Is it not obvious who was the thief?” But the next moment came the slow words which fell like ice on her heart. “Unfortunately, the mystery is deepened, not solved. The finger-prints are those of ‘Tubby’ Thomas, for finger-prints never lie. _But ‘Tubby’ Thomas himself has for the last two years been serving a sentence for a similar offence in Dartmoor, and he is still there._” CHAPTER V ROSABELLE AND LANE CONFER Dazed as she was, cast in a moment from a feeling of elation into one of bitter disappointment, she saw the point at once. If the criminal known as “Tubby” Thomas was safe under lock and key, he could not have been the thief. They were as far from the solution of the mystery as ever, in spite of those tell-tale finger-prints which, according to orthodox belief, never lied.