The Commissioner, making no reply, took two small mounted photographs from a pigeon hole in the desk before him, and handed them across to Larose, who just glanced at them quickly.
“A mistake,” he said calmly, “or else—” his voice hardened—“this one of Bascoigne has been deliberately changed.”
The Commissioner looked very stern. “Our finger-print department does not make mistakes, Mr. Larose,” he said icily, “as no one should know better than yourself. As for any deliberate alteration of the cards”—he shrugged his shoulders—“well, we won't discuss it.” He waved to a chair. “Sit down will you.”
Larose did as he was bid, and keeping a good hold upon himself, smiled cheerfully again. “Well, sir,” he said, “if this Sheldon-Brown is not Bascoigne the convict, we are up against a series of co
