The Red Seal [56]
stooped over and examined them. They were still securely locked. Wheeling around Kent dashed through the door to his right and Ferguson, collecting his wits, searched the rest of the apartment with minute care. Five minutes later he came face to face with Kent in the living room. "Not a trace of any kind," declared Kent. "It's the same as the other night; the man's gone. It's - it's positively uncanny."
Ferguson's face was red from mortification and his exertions combined.
"The fellow must have slipped from the room by that other door and out through the living room as we came down the hail," he said. "Did you shut the door of the apartment, Mr. Kent, before coming down here to look at the prisoner?"
"Yes." Kent led the way back to the dining room. "Did you recognize the man, Ferguson?"
"No." The detective swore softly as he stared about the room. "The lights went out just as I tackled him."
"It was beastly luck that the fuse burned out at that second," groaned Kent. "Fortune was with him in that; but how did the man get free of the handcuffs?" pointing to them still lying in the chair. "We can't attribute that to luck, unless" - staring keenly at Ferguson -" unless you did not snap them on the man's wrists, after all."
"I did; I swear it," declared Ferguson. "I'm no novice at that business. Here, don't touch them, Mr. Kent," as his companion bent toward the chair. "There may be finger marks on the steel; if so" - he drew out his handkerchief, and taking care not to handle the burnished metal, he folded the handcuffs carefully in it and put them in his coat pocket. "There's no use lingering here, Mr. Kent; this apartment is vacant now except for us. I must get to Headquarters."
"Hadn't you better telephone for an operative and station him here?" suggested Kent.
"I did so while you were searching the back rooms," replied Ferguson. "There," as the gong sounded. "That's Nelson, now."
But the person who stood in the outer corridor when they opened the front door was not Nelson, the operative, but Dr. Stone.
"Can I see Mr. Rochester?" he asked, then catching sight of Kent standing just back of the detective, he added, "Hello, Kent; I thought I heard some one walking about in here from my apartment next door, and concluded Rochester had returned. Can I see him?"
"N-no," Kent spoke slowly, with a side-glance at the silent detective. "Rochester has been here - and left."
CHAPTER XVI
THE CRIMSON OUTLINE
Barbara McIntyre made the round of the library for the fifth time, testing each of the seven doors opening into it to see that they ere closed behind their portieres, then she turned back to her sister, who sat cross-logged before a small safe.
"Any luck?" she asked
Instead of replying Helen removed the key from the lock of the steel door and regarded it attentively. The safe was of an obsolete pattern and in place of the customary combination lock, was opened by means of a key, unique in appearance.
"It is certainly the key which father mislaid six months ago," she declared. "Grimes found it just after father had a new key made and gave it to me. And yet I can't get the door open."
"Let me try." Barbara crouched down by her sister and inserted the key again in the lock, but her efforts met with no results, and after five minutes' steady manipulation she gave up the attempt. "I am afraid it is impossible," she admitted. "Seems to me I have heard that the lost key will not open a safe after a new key has been supplied."
Helen rose slowly to her feet, stretching her cramped limbs carefully as she did so, and sank down in the nearest chair. Her attitude indicated dejection.
"Then we can't find the envelope," she muttered. "Hurry, Babs, and close the outer door; father may return at any moment."
Barbara obeyed the injunction with such alacrity that the door, concealing the space in the wall where stood the safe, flew to with a bang and the twins jumped nervously.
"Take care!" exclaimed Helen sharply. "Do you wish to arouse the household?"
Ferguson's face was red from mortification and his exertions combined.
"The fellow must have slipped from the room by that other door and out through the living room as we came down the hail," he said. "Did you shut the door of the apartment, Mr. Kent, before coming down here to look at the prisoner?"
"Yes." Kent led the way back to the dining room. "Did you recognize the man, Ferguson?"
"No." The detective swore softly as he stared about the room. "The lights went out just as I tackled him."
"It was beastly luck that the fuse burned out at that second," groaned Kent. "Fortune was with him in that; but how did the man get free of the handcuffs?" pointing to them still lying in the chair. "We can't attribute that to luck, unless" - staring keenly at Ferguson -" unless you did not snap them on the man's wrists, after all."
"I did; I swear it," declared Ferguson. "I'm no novice at that business. Here, don't touch them, Mr. Kent," as his companion bent toward the chair. "There may be finger marks on the steel; if so" - he drew out his handkerchief, and taking care not to handle the burnished metal, he folded the handcuffs carefully in it and put them in his coat pocket. "There's no use lingering here, Mr. Kent; this apartment is vacant now except for us. I must get to Headquarters."
"Hadn't you better telephone for an operative and station him here?" suggested Kent.
"I did so while you were searching the back rooms," replied Ferguson. "There," as the gong sounded. "That's Nelson, now."
But the person who stood in the outer corridor when they opened the front door was not Nelson, the operative, but Dr. Stone.
"Can I see Mr. Rochester?" he asked, then catching sight of Kent standing just back of the detective, he added, "Hello, Kent; I thought I heard some one walking about in here from my apartment next door, and concluded Rochester had returned. Can I see him?"
"N-no," Kent spoke slowly, with a side-glance at the silent detective. "Rochester has been here - and left."
CHAPTER XVI
THE CRIMSON OUTLINE
Barbara McIntyre made the round of the library for the fifth time, testing each of the seven doors opening into it to see that they ere closed behind their portieres, then she turned back to her sister, who sat cross-logged before a small safe.
"Any luck?" she asked
Instead of replying Helen removed the key from the lock of the steel door and regarded it attentively. The safe was of an obsolete pattern and in place of the customary combination lock, was opened by means of a key, unique in appearance.
"It is certainly the key which father mislaid six months ago," she declared. "Grimes found it just after father had a new key made and gave it to me. And yet I can't get the door open."
"Let me try." Barbara crouched down by her sister and inserted the key again in the lock, but her efforts met with no results, and after five minutes' steady manipulation she gave up the attempt. "I am afraid it is impossible," she admitted. "Seems to me I have heard that the lost key will not open a safe after a new key has been supplied."
Helen rose slowly to her feet, stretching her cramped limbs carefully as she did so, and sank down in the nearest chair. Her attitude indicated dejection.
"Then we can't find the envelope," she muttered. "Hurry, Babs, and close the outer door; father may return at any moment."
Barbara obeyed the injunction with such alacrity that the door, concealing the space in the wall where stood the safe, flew to with a bang and the twins jumped nervously.
"Take care!" exclaimed Helen sharply. "Do you wish to arouse the household?"