"Through that." Brasher was standing on the threshold separating both rooms and was pointing to the porthole in which was fixed a circular fan. Brasher continued: "We came here about eight o'clock, or mebbe a quarter after. Mr. Miller used to get up very early. When he wasn't down for breakfast this mornin' and the people down stairs knowin' he had an appointment with Judge Higginbotham, they came up and called. When there was no answer to their callin' and knockin' they called us up. "Me and another man from headquarters, we broke the door open and we found him like I tell you. Doc Simpson says he was dead about five or six hours when we found him. That makes it about three o'clock when he kills himself. You see the servants had all gone after dinner; gone to a movie. A shot fired in this room couldn't be heard down stairs. I tried it. "No, there's nothin' to it, Professor. It's a dead open and shut case. Mr. Miller committed suicide, don't need any scientific sharps to tell that." Professor Brierly nodded absently. He was gazing about the room. Then he walked to the library table, on which lay the revolver. He stooped over it and turned to the detective. "May I examine this weapon, Mr. Brasher?" "Sure, help yourself." "It is certain, Mr. Brasher, that there are no finger prints on this weapon other than those of Mr. Miller?" "That's certain. Our finger print man hasn't had the experience of the big city men, but he's a good man, just the same, and knows what he's talkin' about." "And he said what, about the finger prints?" "He said that there were Mr. Miller's finger prints all over the gun, that part of Mr. Miller's thumb print, his right thumb was on the trigger, showin' that that's the way he must have pulled the trigger, with his thumb, understand?" "We will take this for granted, Mr. Brasher. Now, did any one disturb the barrel of the weapon, remove the shells or--" "No, Professor, nothin' like that was done, the gun is there just as we found it. We know a little about guns but we ain't expert, get me, and we thought we'd leave it till--" Professor Brierly was not listening. He gingerly picked up the weapon from the table, using his handkerchief, and removed the cylinder, which held one empty shell and five loaded ones. With a deftness and a certainty of movement, remarkable in a man of his age, he removed one of the bullets from a shell, using his knife for the purpose. He first examined the bullet and compared it with one he took from his vest pocket. Then he spilled the powder into the palm of his hand, examined and sniffed that. He looked up. Brasher was beginning to show a little impatience. He said: "Like I said, there's nothin' to it, Professor, nothin' at all. Miller committed suicide." Professor Brierly shook his head gently.