‘Or the thieves would not have carried it off, to be sure, ha! ha! ha!’
‘But how did he get in?’
‘That’s the puzzle,’ said Charley, coming up and joining in the conversation. ‘Nothing is broken. The rascals must have had false keys.’
‘Rather true keys, than false ones,’ replied Monteagle, while Brown gave a sudden start and slightly colored.
‘Ha! ha! Yes, true ones, or they would not have answered the purpose,’ said the latter.
‘Yet it is strange,’ continued Monteagle, ‘for the doors were otherwise secured, as you know, Mr. Brown, by certain secret fastenings which must have been broken before any one could have got in from the outside, unless he was well acquainted with the premises.’
‘Oh, the Sydney ducks make themselves well acquainted with all these matters,’ cried Charley. ‘All we have to do now is to trace out the villains—’
‘And begin by searching the police,’ said Brown. ‘Half the thefts and robberies are committed by them.’
Mr. Vandewater arrived soon after, and was also surprised to find his store robbed without the rupture of a single fastening. He advised an immediate search of the premises, as the robbers might have left something behind them that would have led to their detection. Some persons who had gone into the loft to search, soon came running down with the intelligence that a man was up stairs, fast asleep. All ran up at once, and there Monteagle discovered, between two bales, the bulky form of the Irishman, Jamie. He was snoring melodiously, and seemed to have no idea that the sun was already up.
Mr. Vandewater uttered an exclamation of joy and surprise, for he thought discovery of the whole affair was now certain.