"It must be getting cold out, Michael," she remarked. "This package is as cold as ice."
"It is, ma'am," answered Michael, deferentially with a sidelong glance that did not prevent his watching her intently.
She closed the safe and, with a glance at her watch, set the time lock and went upstairs to her room.
No sooner had Elaine disappeared than Michael appeared again, cat-like, through the curtains from the drawing room, and, after a glance about the dimly lighted library, discovering that the coast was clear, motioned to a figure hiding behind the portieres.
A moment, and Clutching Hand himself came out.
He moved over to the safe and looked it over. Then he put out his hand and touched it.
"Good, Michael," he exclaimed with satisfaction.
"Listen!" cautioned Michael.
Someone was coming and they hastily slunk behind the protecting portieres. It was Marie, Elaine's maid.
She turned up the lights and went over to the desk for a book for which
Elaine had evidently sent her. She paused and appeared to be listening.
Then she went to the door.