"Someone at the door—Jennings is answering the bell," Michael whispered hoarsely.
"Confound it!" muttered Clutching Hand, as both moved again behind the heavy velour curtains.
. . . . . . . .
"I'm so glad to see you, Mr. Kennedy," greeted Elaine unaffectedly as
Jennings admitted us.
She had heard the bell and was coming downstairs as we entered. We three moved toward the library and someone switched on the lights.
Craig strode over to the safe. The cold sweat on it had now turned to icicles. Craig's face clouded with thought as he examined it more closely. There was actually a groaning sound from within.
"It can't be opened," he said to himself. "The time lock is set for tomorrow morning."
Outside, if we had not been so absorbed in the present mystery, we might have seen Michael and the Clutching Hand listening to us. Clutching Hand looked hastily at his watch.
"The deuce!" he muttered under his breath, stifling his suppressed fury.
We stood looking at the safe. Kennedy was deeply interested, Elaine standing close beside him. Suddenly he seemed to make up his mind.