“Come quickly,” he said. “Some one has been before us and found the money, but he is coming back again.”
Marsland silently followed Crewe along the side of the house to the kitchen, and into the room where the great grandfather clock stood. Crewe flashed the torch on it, and Marsland started back with a cry of astonishment. The wooden case had been smashed beyond repair. It had been hacked and splintered with a heavy weapon, which had not only battered in the front of the case, but smashed the back as well. Pieces of the wood had been pulled off and flung about the room. About the bottom of the broken case several sovereigns were lying.
“The treasure!” he cried. “It was here then. Has he got away with it?”
“Most of it, but not all of it,” said Crewe. “See here!” He knelt down by the case, plunged in his hand, and drew forth a canvas bag which clinked as he held it up. “This is the sort of bag that banks use for holding sovereigns—the banks put a thousand sovereigns into each bag and seal it up so as to render it unnecessary to count the coins every time the bags are handled. There are four of these bags still here.”
“But where are they hidden?” asked Marsland, in amazement. “Where did you find this one? Wasn’t it lying on the floor when you came in?”
“The old man devised a skilful hiding-place,” said Crewe. “He fitted the case with a false back, and stowed his treasure in between. Look here!”
He flashed the light around the interior of the case, and Marsland, looking closely, saw that the back of it, which had been smashed, was a false one, skilfully let in about three inches in front of the real back. In the space between the two backs the eccentric old owner of Cliff Farm had concealed his treasure as he had obtained it from the bank.
“It’s an ingenious hiding-place,” said Crewe. “He laid the clock on its face, took off the back, fitted his false slide into a groove, stacked in his money-bags, replaced the proper back, and then restored the clock to its original position. You see, he was careful to make the space between the false and the real backs so narrow that there was very little possibility of the hiding-place being discovered by chance or suspicion. Even the man who has forestalled us with the solution of the cryptogram was unable to discover the treasure until he had recourse to the clumsy method of smashing up the clock. This is what he used to do it.” Crewe pointed to an axe lying near. “With that he smashed the case, found the treasure, and carried off what he could. He would be able to carry four of these bags at a time—two in each hand. He has left these four for another trip. How many trips he has already made I do not know, but probably more than one.”
“He may be back again any moment,” said Marsland, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Hadn’t we better hide?”
“He won’t be back just yet,” said Crewe confidently.