a clever brain—when she uses it. She helped get these for us.â€�
Sir Richard pointed toward the first tin box. “She aided in getting them through Switzerland. She did well—but they are scraps of paper without the key that will solve them. That key may lie in the smoked-glasses. It may go deeper than that. You thought it was a trifle. Let me tell you, candidly, there are no trifles in this world. What do you wager that the trifle you threw away solves the secret of the entire German dye industry?â€�
“About three minutes start that it doesn’t,� said Fay as he glanced at the girl out of the corners of his eyes.
Sir Richard rubbed his hands and picked up the nearest box. He inserted the key as the little old man crept out of the gloom and came toward the table. Saidee Isaacs took one step in the direction of the door and the wainscoting near the chamfering. She stood pensively, with her hands at her sides as MacKeenon glided into the room and tossed a pair of yellow-tinted goggles upon the table.
Sir Richard picked up these goggles and lifted a sheet of paper out of the box. He held the glasses in one hand—the paper in the other. His eyes traveled over the lines of typing. He adjusted the goggles and leaned his head forward.
Slowly the chief’s gaze ran from left to right and back again along the sheet. He fingered the goggles abstractedly. He moved his eyes closer to the page. He drew them away—a foot or more.
“Not smoked enough,� he said musingly. “These glasses won’t do, I’m afraid. They’re very weak. Very weak indeed.�
Fay stood on the balls of his feet. He thrust a hand halfway out toward his cap which was between MacKeenon and the little old man. He waited then with every nerve strained to the leaping point.
Sir Richard glanced at the electric cluster, blinked his eyes, then resumed his scrutiny through the goggles of the typed page. He lifted a second sheet and peered at this. He seemed, to the poised cracksman, like a scientist examining a beetle with a double microscope. His brow darkened with a welling frown of annoyance. His chin lifted slightly. His glance darted toward Fay in final resolution. His eyes flamed.
“Mac, you may take him back to—â€� he started to say when Saidee Isaacs’ fingers closed over the black knob of the switch which controlled all of the lights in the room. A click sounded like a revolver being cocked. The place was plunged into inky darkness. An exclamation of surprise came from the two detectives. This was followed by a gasp from Sir Richard. This last was mingled exasperation and wonder.