“Was your door forced?”
“Didn’t appear to be.”
“Let’s have a look at your room,” suggested the attendant, and he led the way to it, followed by a throng.
There was no evidence that the door had been tampered with. The lock was not sprung, and there were no marks on the jamb, which would have been the case had the door been forced open with a jimmy.
While Uriah Snodgrass, the attendant, and those gathered out of curiosity were standing outside the bath house, Jerry went inside. As he stepped on the floor he noticed that one of the boards was loose. He stooped down, and found he could lift the plank up.
“There’s how the thief got in!” he exclaimed. “See there is a space beneath the floor, and a man could crawl under from in back.”
“That’s so, these houses set on piles driven into the sand,” the attendant stated. “There’s a space of about two feet between the floor and the beach.”
“Then I’ll sue the management!” declared the professor. “The idea of leaving things so a burglar could push up a board, reach his hand in, and take whatever he wanted!”
“You should have left your ring at the office,” insisted the man who looked after the pavilions. “What sort of a ring was it?”
“It was a big diamond set in the head of a snake with two rubies for eyes,” Professor Snodgrass replied. “It’s all right enough to talk about leaving it at the office. Lock the stable door after the horse is stolen is a good motto, also, but it doesn’t give me back my ring. I’ll sue some one.”