the chips out of
the window."

"The woman?"

Coquenil nodded. "She helped Martinez while he bored the holes."

Tignol listened in amazement. "You think Martinez bored those holes? The
man who was murdered?"

"Undoubtedly. The spirals from the auger blade inside the holes show
plainly that the boring was done _from_ Number Six _toward_ Number Seven.
Take the glass and see for yourself."

Tignol took the glass and studied the hole. Then he turned, shaking his
head. "You're a fine detective, M. Paul, but I was a carpenter for six
years before I went on the force and I know more about auger holes than you
do. I say you can't be sure which side of the wall this hole was bored
from. You talk about spirals, but there's no sense in that. They're the
same either way. You _might_ tell by the chipping, but this is hard wood
covered with thick enamel, so there's apt to be no chipping. Anyhow,
there's none here. We'll see on the other side."

"All right, we'll see," consented Coquenil, and they went around into
Number Six.

The old man drew back the sofa hangings and exposed two holes exactly like
the others--in fact, the same holes. "You see," he went on, "the edges are
clean, without a sign of chipping. There is no more reason to say that
these holes were bored this side than from that."

M. Paul made no reply, but going to the sofa he knelt down by it, and using
his glass, proceeded to go over its surface with infinite care.

"Turn up all the lights," he said. "That's better," and he continued his
search. "Ah!" he cried presently. "You think there is no reason to say the
holes were bored from this side. I'll give you a reason. Take this piece of
white paper and make me prints of his boot heels." He pointed to the body.
"Take the whole heel carefully, then the other one, get the nail marks,
everything. That's right. Now cut out the prints. Good! Now look here.
Kneel down. Take the glass. There on the yellow satin, by the tail of that
silver bird. Do you see? Now compare the heel prints."

Papa Tignol knelt down as directed and examined the sofa seat, which was
covered with a piece of Chinese embroidery.

"_Sapristi!_ You're a magician!" he cried in great excitement.

"No," replied Coquenil, "it's perfectly simple. These holes in the wall are
five feet above the floor. And I'm enough of a carpenter, Papa Tignol," he
smiled, "to know that a man cannot work an auger at that height without
standing on something. And here