Evidently the said committee went into session at once, and a great cloud of smoke arose above its meeting place. Mr. Scanlon, after a space, threw the cigarette away with decision.
“As it’s a case of out and out crookedness, the thing can be done without sacrifice to the finer feelings. Therefore I’ll go and take a peep at the lady with the package.”
So down the courtyard went Mr. Scanlon; at the near end of the stable was a grated window some dozen feet from the ground; a ladder stood under it.
“The Frau Kretz, I suppose, got up this way,” said Bat. “Therefore, so shall I.”
Peering in through the grating he saw that the room was the one the servants used for storage. At a table stood Miss Knowles, and the parcel, opened, lay before her.
The room was a dark one, but the girl had lighted a large swinging lamp and the rays fell downward upon the table.
The observant eyes of Mr. Scanlon went all about the place; nothing in the room was missed.
“For you see,” mused he, “a fellow, in a case like this, never knows just what belongs to the game being played, and what doesn’t.”
It was a high ceilinged room, narrow, but long; shelves were upon two sides of it, shelves loaded with packets and jars and labeled boxes.
“How many of them are in on this business of the packet?” was Bat’s mental query. “They all look innocent enough, of course; they seem to be simple things having to do with the kitchen and the preparation of meals. But are they what they seem to be? Or are they like a good many things about this house—putting up an innocent front, but, in reality, working as something else.”