"Yes. In the dead man's fingers was a bit of red hair. It seems conclusive that the villain who assaulted me to-night was the one who engaged in the death struggle with poor Nicholson. The trail is becoming plain, and before the National holiday rolls round I hope to have the perpetrator of this crime behind prison bars." "I hope you are not over-sanguine, Dyke." "I have ever been successful." "How about the Osborne case?" "Ah, yes; but that isn't off yet. I expect that the murderers of the old captain will come to light about the time the railway criminals are brought to justice." "Indeed." "There are several hands engaged in these bloody crimes, and when I do make a haul, it will be a wholesale one." "I should think you would need help in a work of this kind." "I do." "Can I be of any service? You may command me, Dyke." "Thanks. You were of inestimable service to-night, and I believe you can do more. It would please me to have you remain in this city and keep an eye out, while I go up the road to the spot where the crime was committed." "You know the place?" "Certainly. It was near Black Hollow, a wild spot, where the woods along the creek afforded chance for hiding. Some of the rascals are yet in that vicinity, I believe. The one who assaulted me to-night may not remain in the city long. You will do as I wish?" "Certainly; glad to do it, Dyke." "That settles one point, then. If I need any more help I know where I can find it." "Where?" "Elliston. He is something of a detective, you know." Harry Bernard frowned at mention of that name. The pleasant look vanished from his face, and he relapsed into silence. Holding up the handkerchief, Dyke Darrel said: "This was used by the assassin to wipe his bloody hands after the murder. He was a fool to keep the tell-tale linen by him; but these fellows are always leaving some loophole open. I have made one discovery that may have escaped your notice, Harry." "What is that?" "Look." Laying the bloody handkerchief over the young man's knee, Dyke Darrel pointed to a spot near the center, where the imprint of fingers was plainly visible. "You see that?" "Certainly; the marks of human fingers, but I can't see that you will be able to make anything out of that, so many hands are alike, you know." Then Harry laid his own hand against the spot stained with blood. "My hand fits exactly." The eyes of Dyke Darrel began to dilate. His usually immobile features began to twitch, and a deadly pallor overspread all. What was it that had caught the eye of Dyke Darrel, to cause such terrible emotion? He had indeed made a discovery.