"Yes, sir," said the watchman. "Mr. Delmar told me that." As the watchman started back toward the corridor that led to the side door, Hubert Salisbury advanced to meet the approaching man.
They spoke to each other in whispers; then Salisbury conducted the other to a small office at the side. Here, he turned on a light and sat down at a desk, facing his companion.
Hubert Salisbury was a clean-cut chap, not more than twenty-five years of age, although his poise and businesslike look marked him as a mature man.
Hubert's companion — Wellington — was considerably older. He seemed to be a rather slow and dull-witted individual; but that was affected. An experienced investigator, Wellington knew the value of self-effacement. Alone, with Salisbury, he quickly dropped his sluggish attitude.
"You've found something?" questioned Salisbury.
"Yes," declared Wellington. "At least, I think I have. I figured this whole proposition, Mr. Salisbury. That watchman of yours makes his rounds on a rather methodical sort of schedule. It wouldn't be difficult to slip one over on him — provided that you knew his ways. Now there's only one method that could be used to get a line on him. That's to be in here, keeping a watch of your own."
"It sounds logical," nodded Salisbury.
"Well," said the investigator, "the dough has been grabbed at night. Whoever has been doing it has been mighty clever. Studied the vault and been looking over the whole lay. No ordinary crook."
"So I've been laying here, on watch myself. More than that, I've been figuring how it would be possible to get in here."
"I can't say I've had any luck except that I've picked the one place where it might work. Downstairs, where all the safe-deposit vaults are located. That's where I want to look."