CHAPTER THIRTEENIn Camera
“Well, Miss Prady.” Gamadge’s expression as he looked at her was almost affectionate. “We seem to be making progress, we really do; but how can you tell that this is Mr. Locke’s pistol?”
Miss Prady cast an intense look at him, and then back at the incongruous object lying on the satinwood table. She rose and advanced slowly towards it; her hand was nearly upon it when Gamadge put out his own.
“I wouldn’t touch it, if I were you,” he said. “Probably there are no fingerprints on it except my wife’s; still, I wouldn’t touch it.”
Belden had also got to his feet; there was even now a smile on his lips, but otherwise his face had taken on a resemblance to the gargoyle mask which Gamadge had caught a glimpse of the day before. He asked, his eyes on Gamadge: “Shall I
