"Behind panelling in bedroom directly opposite the door," she had
written. Inch by inch, over an area a yard square, those sensitive
finger tips of Jimmie Dale felt their way, lingering here over a knot
in the wood, and there over a joint or crevice. Five minutes went
by--and the five became ten. An exclamation of annoyance, low, guarded,
escaped him. There was nothing--he could find nothing. The Spider's
ingenuity had not been over-rated! Somewhere there must be the secret
spring which operated the panel, but there was no sign of it; neither
was there the slightest sign or indication that any portion of the
panelling was even movable.
He drew back for an instant, frowning. Perhaps--and then he shook his
head--no, the Tocsin did not make mistakes of that kind. The safe was
unquestionably behind the panelling in front of him. Well, there was a
way--it was distasteful to him because it was crude and bungling, but
he could afford no more time in a search, that he had already convinced
himself was hopeless.
From the girdle came a half dozen little blue-steel tools. A jimmy found
and nosed its way into the joint between two panels. There was a low,
faint creak of rending wood.
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