"
"The relics, as you call them," Goldberger explained, "won't need to
remain in our hands. My expert here can tell in a minute whether your
prints resemble those of his photographs. If they do not, they will be
returned to you."
"And if they do?"
Goldberger laughed.
"Well, you can have them back, anyway. In that case, I guess we can
persuade you, later on, to make another set."
The yogi flushed angrily, but controlled himself.
"I rely upon your promise, sir," he said, and laid his fingers first
upon the pad and then upon the paper.
He stood with closed eyes and moving lips, his inked fingers held
carefully away from him, during the breathless moment that Sylvester
bent above the prints. Then the expert looked up and shook his head.
"No resemblance at all," he said, and held out the sheet of paper on
which the prints were.
Silva accepted it silently, and rolled it into a ball in the palm of
his hand.
"Now for the other fellow," said Goldberger.
Silva glanced at his follower doubtfully.
"I am not sure that I can make him understand," he said, and for some
moments talked energetically to Mahbub in a language which I suppose
was Hindu.
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