"
"So you were in the desk?" I asked.
"Sure," he chuckled. "Where else? Lookin' at you out of one of the
pigeon-holes, an' wonderin' if I'd better risk it."
"And you decided you would?"
"Yes," said Jemmy slyly; "I saw you were scart to death, an' I was
afraid if I didn't demonstrate for the old lady, I wouldn't get the
money."
"How did you know she had it?"
"I heard you tell her you'd brought it, down in the parlor."
"Oh," I said; "then it was your step I heard in the hall?"
"I guess so, if you heard one. I just had time to get upstairs an'
make my plant before you came in. The rest was easy."
"But the ashes?" I said.
"Flicked out through a pigeonhole. That's what took practice, to make
'em fall just right. Also the cigar."
"And the odor of tobacco?"
He got a little vial out of his pocket, uncorked it, and again I
caught the sweet and heavy odor of Peter Magnus' cigar.
"An' here's a fine point I'm proud of," said Jemmy. "I had this made
from half a dozen of Magnus' cigars I found in a box in his room. So
the smell was just right. I thought for a while of showin' some smoke,
but didn't dare risk it."
"But the note," I said. "That was the cleverest of all."
Jemmy chuckled and glanced at Godfrey.
"You'll understand that, Jim," he said. "You remember I worked it
backward in that National City Bank case."
Godfrey nodded.
"I remember the signature disappeared from old Murgatroyd's check."
"Backward or forward, it don't make no difference.
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