Just then Stratton turned and saw that he was being watched; but, as if all attempts at concealment were hopeless, he smiled faintly at his friend and then turned away.
The workman had not made any reply, and the sergeant spoke again as a large picklock was thrust into the keyhole again and again.
“Rusted up?”
“Ay, and eaten away; there hasn’t been a key used in that lock in our time, pardner. But stop a minute; more ways of killing a cat than hanging of her. Let’s have a look.”
He began to examine the edge of the door, and then turned sharply round.
“Look here,” he said; and then taking hold of the antique door knob, he lifted it and the whole of the front bar or rail came away—a piece of narrow wood six feet long.
“Split away from the tenons,” he said; and the sergeant uttered an ejaculation, full of eager satisfaction.
“There, gentleman,” he said, pointing. “One—two—three—four bright new screws. What do you say now?”
There they were plain enough, close to the door frame, and Guest uttered a low sigh as he supported himself by the back of a chair.
“Out with ’em, Jem,” cried the sergeant excitedly, and, a large screw-driver being produced from the tool bag, the screws were attacked, and turned easily, the man rapidly withdrawing them and laying them one by one on the mantel-shelf.