"I know it, and there is where the difficulty rises."
"What’s your scheme?"
"A desperate one."
"Tell us."
"Can I trust you? I’ve got to trust you. I wouldn’t think of doing it if it wasn’t that those chaps will squeal, but I’m going to try to—sh-h-h!—to get hold of that paper."
Zeb whispered the final words.
"How?" whispered both Uric and Jim.
"I know a way. I have a key to the door of old Gunn’s den. How did I get it? Made it. He leaves the key in the outside of his door sometimes, you know. I noticed that. Thought I might want to get into his department some time, and so one day I slipped it out when I was passing the door, and took a wax impression of it. I’ve done the thing with other keys just for sport, and I’ve got the trick down fine. I slipped the key back into the lock and got away. Then I made a key from the impression. Here it is."
The crooked-eyed young rascal held up the key he had made. Scudder looked at him in admiration.
"You’re a dandy, Fletch!" he exclaimed.