... The packet was not where he had placed it the
night before. He remembered distinctly how he had shoved it into a
certain pigeonhole.... It was not there. He found it in the compartment
below.... Bob was not easily startled or frightened, so now he paused
and took his memory to account. No.... The fault was not with his
memory. He had done exactly as he remembered doing.... Somebody had
opened that safe since he closed it; somebody had fingered its
contents.... He caught his breath, not at the fear of loss, but in
sudden terror of the means by which that loss had been brought about,
the person who might have been the instrument.... Furiously he began
going over the contents of the safe--money, securities, papers.
Everything seemed intact. But one thing remained--the little drawer. He
had put off opening that, because he dreaded to open it, for it
contained the paper that excluded Farley Curtis from a share in his
uncle's estate.... Bob compelled himself to turn the little key, to
open the drawer.... It was empty!...
Bob walked slowly to his desk and sat down, his eyes fixed upon the safe
as if it fascinated him.... Facts, facts! His soul demanded facts.
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