“Correct. No key is required, I can simply take it, shoot the ring-bolt into its place, and I’ll bet any man a hundred dollars that he can’t open it.”
The spectators looked on with increased interest.
“Lock it for me,” said Number One, handing it back to the owner. “I would like to try it.”
“Certainly.” Number Two took the lock—a spring-lock, apparently—shot the bolt into its place, with a snap, and returned it to Number One. “There,” said he, “you’ll be the sharpest man I ever saw if you open it.”
The spectators now gathered around closer, and looked on with an interest that was intense.
Number One took the lock, inserted his finger in the ring-bolt and took a dead pull on it.
“It won’t come open that way,” he remarked, as he pretended to scan it more closely.
“No,” replied Number Two; “you might as well pull against two yoke of oxen.”
Presently, Number One appeared to discover a slight,—almost imperceptible,—protuberance, which looked as though it might connect with a secret spring; and pressing this slyly, he opened the lock, and handed it back to Number Two, with an air of triumph.
“There,” said he; “when you invent another lock bring it to me and I’ll open it for you.”