“Yes, from this side,” said Don. “I have done it once, and I know I can do it again.”
Duncan, who believed that the feat could not possibly be accomplished, was unable to find words with which to express his surprise. He could only look bewildered. He took up a position in the main hall so that he could watch the stairs and guard against intrusion, and occasionally turned his eyes toward Don, whose proceedings he watched with the greatest interest.
Don’s first act was to produce his pocket-knife, with which he removed from the lower left-hand corner of the panel above the lock a round plug of wood, which fitted into a hole about half an inch in diameter. The top of the plug was painted white, like the door, and it filled the opening so accurately that the different officers of the day, who had probably looked at it a hundred times since it had been placed there, had never seen it. Don then pulled out of his pocket a short, crooked wire, one end of which was bent into the form of a hook and the other made into the shape of a ring. The hook he inserted into the hole in the panel, and a moment later the bolt was heard to slide from its socket.
“There you are,” said he, turning to Tom. “Now, take out your key and open the door.”
Tom obeyed, lost in wonder, and then he and Duncan stepped forward to see how Don’s invention worked. Simple as it was, it was admirably adapted to the purpose for which it was intended. “The only difficult thing about it,” said Don, in explanation, “is to get the hook around the knob of the bolt. That done, a simple turn of the wrist does the rest.”
“Gordon, you’re a good one,” exclaimed Tom. “You ought to be a Yankee.”
“This is a Yankee invention—at least a New England carpenter was the one who brought it to my notice,” answered Don, as Fisher closed and locked the door. “While he was doing some work on our plantation, our smoke-house and corn-cribs were robbed more than a dozen times. It seemed impossible for father to get locks that could not be picked or broken. The carpenter said he could put a stop to that business, and he did it by making some heavy wooden bolts, working on the same principle that this one does, only there were three or four knobs in them instead of one. Then he made a key, in shape something like this one of mine, and when we wanted to shut up for the night, all we had to do was to throw the bolts to their places, take out the wire, and the doors were fast. There was but one way to pass them, and that was to break them down; and if anybody had tried that he would have got himself into business directly, for I own some dogs that won’t permit any such doings.”
“Well, I’ve locked the door,” said Tom, when Don ceased speaking, “and now I’d like to see you throw that bolt back again. That’s important, you know.”
Don said he knew it. He thrust his wire through the opening again, and in a second more the bolt was shot into its socket. In order to make sure of it, Tom unlocked the door again and tried to open it; but the bolt held it fast. Don’s plan would work to perfection—Fisher and Duncan were sure of it.
“When did you find opportunity to do all this work?” asked the former.