Then from the belt came the thin metal case and a pair of tweezers.

He opened the case, and with the tweezers lifted out one of the gray-coloured, diamond-shaped seals.
Holding the seal with the tweezers, he moistened the gummed side with his lips, then laid it on a handkerchief which he took from his pocket, and clapped the handkerchief against the front of the safe, sticking the seal conspicuously into place.

Jimmie Dale's insignia bore no finger prints.

The microscopes and magnifying glasses at headquarters had many a time regretfully assured the police of that fact.
And now his hands and fingers seemed to work like lightning.

Into the soft iron bit a drill--bit in and through--bit in and through again.
It was dark, pitch black--and silent.