“Something has happened, then. What shall we do?”
Doctor Lukens settled the question.
“Break through the door,” he ordered. Paget sprang to action. With surprising strength, he flung his body against the door but it did not yield. Oscar hurried away and returned with a heavy hammer.
Paget seized the tool and directed a series of well-aimed blows upon the lock. He battered the metal with no result. Then, changing his tactics, he drove the hammer through the wooden panel above the lock.
Reaching through the opening that he had made, Paget released the lock from the inside and the door swung open.
Willis, unable to restrain himself, pushed the others aside as he dashed into the room.
Henry Marchand was seated in a chair before his desk. His head and shoulders rested on the top of the desk. His left hand was outstretched, with widespread fingers. His right arm lay limp at his side.
A shallow drawer was opened in the desk, just beneath the top. In it lay a sealed envelope.
Doctor Lukens bent over the huddled form of Henry Marchand. The others stepped back.
Willis, with wild, staring eyes, gazed about the room, as though inspecting the heavily-shuttered windows.