Young was decidedly disappointed. "I had no personal motive in looking this thing up," he said, "I only hoped that my knowledge of my father's clever work might lead to some discovery that would prove helpful to you detectives or to the family. But it's plain to be seen there's no hocus-pocus about this thing. It's as simple a safe as I ever saw. Nothing, in fact, but a concealed cupboard with a combination lock. Wonder who opened it? The murderer?"
"I don't think so," rejoined Hughes. "I think the intruder, whoever he was, compelled the old lady to open it for him."
"You stick to the masculine gender, I see, in your assumptions."
"I do. I don't think for a minute that Miss Clyde is involved."
"But her room is just above this——"
"Oh, that's what you're after! A secret connection between this room and Miss Clyde's by way of the safe!"
"Yes, that's what I had in mind. But there's not the slightest possibility of it, is there?"
"No, not any other secret passage of any sort or kind. Oh, I've investigated fully in that respect. I meant, I haven't searched for tiny clues and little scraps of evidence. Straws, in fact, do show which way the wind blows."
"Well, I don't suppose I can be of any help, but if I can, call on me. I live in East Fallville, only twelve miles away, and I'd like nothing better than to dig into this mystery, if I'm wanted."
"Thank you, Mr. Young, I appreciate your helpful spirit, and I'll call on you if it's available. But I don't mind owning up that we have more people to look into this matter than directions in which to look. As you may imagine, it's a baffling thing to get hold of. I confess I hardly know which way to turn."