“I appreciate that more than I can say,” said the man, the tears welling up into his eyes with emotion. “Now, what did you want to know?”
“First about Dr. Heidenmuller’s apparatus, and then about his death.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you much of the apparatus. I never even saw it. It was in an inner room to which the doctor had the only key. I never was in the room till the day we broke down the door and took him out dead. There was no apparatus there then. It must have been removed.”
“How did the room look?” asked Dorothy.
“It was all bare. Nothing in it at all, except the wooden chair where he sat and a wooden table.”
“How about the walls and ceiling?”
“They were all of wood.”
“How about the locks on the door and windows?”
“That was a funny thing. They were of wood, too, though he had an iron key.”