Mr. Grimm set the dial at thirty-six, and then, with his ear pressed closely against the polished door, turned the dial slowly back. Señor Rodriguez stood looking on helplessly, but none the less intently. The pointer read ten, then nine, eight, seven, five. Mr. Grimm gazed at it thoughtfully, after which he did it all over again, placidly and without haste.
"Now, we'll look inside, please," he requested, rising.
Señor Rodriguez unlocked the safe the while Mr. Grimm respectfully turned his eyes away, then pulled the door wide open. The books had been piled one on top of another and thrust into various pigeonholes at the top. Mr. Grimm understood that this disorder was the result of making room at the bottom for the bulk of gold, and asked no questions. Instead, he sat down upon the floor again.
"The lock on this private compartment at the top is broken," he remarked after a moment.
"Si, Señor," the diplomatist agreed. "Evidently the robbers were not content with only fifty thousand dollars in gold—they imagined that something else of value was hidden there."
"Was there?" asked Mr. Grimm naively. He didn't look around.
"Nothing of monetary value," the señor explained. "There were some important state papers in there—they are there yet—but no money."
"None of the papers was stolen?"
"No, Señor. There were only nine packets—they are there yet."
"Contents all right?"