“Oh, you can trust him,” Dick made haste to say. “Phil is a lot safer than I am.”
“I hope you won’t think, Phil, that I’m in the habit of eavesdropping. A good many times I deliberately close my eyes to what people are saying, so as not to understand things they don’t mean me to know. But Bosworth is thoroughly bad and ought to be shown up, and since he has got hold of little Eddy again, I’ve kept my eyes peeled. Eddy was walking about in Bosworth’s room that Saturday morning before he went to Boston. I can see pretty clearly from my east window any one who comes near Bosworth’s window, and I was sure that I caught the words safe, door, and combination. The last I am positive about, for it’s a long word and easy to catch.”
“Do you suspect Bosworth of breaking into the safe?” asked Phil, quickly.
“Yes, I do,” answered Varrell; “but until it can be proved I don’t want the subject mentioned.”
“How could he get into the room?” persisted Phil, now deeply interested.
“By the passage door.”
“Do you think he got the housekeeper’s keys?”
“No, I don’t,” replied Varrell, “though it wouldn’t have been impossible for any one to get them. There was an easier way: the door opens out and fits very loosely. He probably pried it open.”
“With what?”
“With the flat ice-chipper that stands in the corner next to the stairs. It is strong, and has a wide blade that would not leave much of a mark. But mind, I guess all this; I haven’t any proof whatever.”