“I mean that I want to discover, if possible, the identity of Taggart’s confederate,” Nick interrupted. “I then can shape up my work. That is why I came here to see Vandyke’s letter. I suspect that a copy of it was made. I suspected, also, if it was obtained by breaking into the house and forcing your desk, that it might bear finger prints of the crooks. Patsy will report a little later.” “But why wouldn’t a crook have taken the letter itself?” questioned Mantell. “Why would he have made a copy of it?” “Because you would have missed the letter, and, of course, would have become suspicious,” Nick pointed out. “You would immediately have taken steps to thwart the knavery that has been successfully accomplished through leaving the letter in its customary place.” “Yes, yes, I see,” Mantell nodded. “I ought to have thought of that. You suspect then, that----” “Wait! There comes my touring car with Chick and Danny, my chauffeur,” Nick interrupted, glancing from the window. “I must see what more he has learned.” “I will admit him,” cried Mantell, hastening to do so. Chick entered the library with him a few moments later. He at once proceeded to report to Nick that Gibson, the house broker, could add nothing definite to the statements he had made by telephone, and that his description of the couple who had called to rent the house were of but little value, the woman having been veiled at the time, while the man probably was in disguise. On one of the basement windows, however, Chick had found convincing evidence that the house had been forcibly entered, but he could discover no clew to the identity or number of the burglars. “Whether they were confederates of Taggart or----” “They were not,” said Nick, interrupting Chick’s report. “Taggart was killed by Padillo, and he either was the man who lured the Mexican to the house, or a confederate of the man who did so. In either case, Chick, the Taggart gang would have had access to the house without breaking into it.” “That’s logical,” Chick quickly admitted. “There is no denying it.” “If we can discover the identity of Taggart’s confederate, therefore, we shall have a definite clew to both gangs that evidently were in the house,” Nick added. “Ah, Patsy is returning. Admit him, Mantell. His haste indicates that he has made a discovery of some importance.” Nick had caught sight of the returning automobile, from which Patsy was hastening to alight before it came to a stop in the driveway. He entered the library a moment later, and his first words confirmed Nick’s prediction. “They are finger prints, chief, all right,” he cried, returning the Vandyke letter. “Are there corresponding ones in our collection?” Nick inquired. “That’s what, chief.” “Whose are they, Patsy?” “Those of the crook who gave the law the slip, but not before we got his measurements and identification marks,” cried Patsy. “There is no mistaking them, chief. They are the finger prints of--Gaston Goulard!” CHAPTER V.