“I thought so. Marvelous tides up in this locality. Well, there’s nothing more to be discovered by gazing at these rocks and water: let’s go home.”
On the trip homeward, the detective proved himself so entertaining that North went back to Headland House with him.
Again they poured over the plans of the house, and Wise announced his determination of using a pick on one room in the third story that he surmised might be a trifle shorter than its adjacent walls implied.
“But it measures up,” North insisted.
“Not quite,” Wise declared. “There may be a two foot space in there, which would be enough for a secret passage.”
“You’re a persistent one!” North laughed. “All right, Mr Wise, go ahead with your investigation. May I help? I can wield a pick with the best of them!”
The detective glanced at the lithe, sinewy form, that seemed to be all muscle and no superfluous flesh, and said, admiringly, “I believe you! But I think Kelly or the chauffeur can do the really hard work.”
“No, let me do it,” North offered. “I’d really enjoy it.”
So, half amused at his own decision, Wise agreed, and the two went in search of the necessary tools.
But the result of their labor was absolutely nothing, beyond an incredible amount of dust and dirt, of lath and plaster, and two very much disheveled men.