“Let me see it!�
Saidee opened the paper and laid it down between the two tea cups. It was a well-done diagram of the main floor of a splendid house. The streets were named. The locality of the safe was shown in red ink. Beneath the diagram was a notation which Fay saw was in Saidee’s handwriting—fine and precise.
“Read it,� he asked, straining his eyes.
“Oh, it goes on to say that a very wise little safecracker will find an American strong-box with two dials and a dial-keister. The day door is secured by a flat lock which probably can be picked. The safe stands on a concrete and tile flooring. There is a space overhead hardly big enough for a man to secrete himself. The sides of the safe are in plain view of two streets.�
“Go on,� said Fay as Saidee Isaacs glanced up. “That’s your handwriting. I still think you went to Holland.�
“Be careful! Don’t tell all that you think, Chester. You’ll spoil our midnight party.�
“It’s almost a daylight one!�
She glanced at a pantry window. “Gray dawn,� she said musingly. “The cold, gray dawn, Chester.�
“And time I’m going, I suppose,� he said, reaching and taking the diagram. He held it before him and ran his eyes to left and right over the paper. His glance was the keen darting one of a professional.
“This stairway?� he asked, pointing toward a series of shaded lines. “Where does that lead?�