At last Spencer raised himself.
“No, the key isn't in its hole,” he said slowly. “But I thought—I thought——”
“Yes, yes; you thought what?”
Both men's voices had instinctively sunk to a whisper.
Spencer was shorter than his senior. As he looked up his eyes were dark with fear, his words came with an odd little stutter between them.
“I—I expect I was mistaken—I must have been. You look yourself, Walls. But I thought I saw a queer-looking heap over there by the window.”
“A queer-looking heap!” Without further ado the other man pushed him aside.
As he knelt down Spencer went on:
“It—there is something sticking out at the side—it looks like a leg—a leg in a grey trouser—do you see?”
There was a moment's tense silence. Then Mr. Walls raised himself.