A long, slender hand appeared. On the third finger a mysterious gem gleamed with reflected crimson. With amazing precision the hand worked at the dials.
The safe came open. The light revealed small piles of papers, and a stack of bank notes that were held together by a red rubber band.
A hand set the light in a position from which it showed the interior of the safe. The strange visitor went through all the articles with methodical precision.
When the search had been completed, everything was replaced in the exact original position. The light went out; the safe door closed.
Now began a tour of inspection throughout the room. Books and magazines came under the darting ray of the little light. Finally the search was centered upon Tiger Bronson’s small desk. A few papers and letters lay there. Invisible eyes inspected them and read them.
At the end of an hour, the room had been examined to the utmost. Nothing had escaped the untiring searcher. Yet apparently his task was not ended.
The light went out, and all was still. In the darkness, a great brain was at work. The invisible searcher was not satisfied with the absence of incriminating documents.
* * *
The light again appeared by the desk. The same left hand, with its glowing jewel picked up every article, from paper clips to penholders. A blotter was taken between the hands, as the light momentarily vanished.
When the ray again appeared, the blotter lay in two portions. Its upper surface had been peeled from the lower. Yet there was no writing between.